you wouldn't be the first renegade to need somebody
Flora stands very still as Rae speaks. There’s no warmth in it, no grandeur, just the precision of something that understands the structure of existence down to its smallest particle, leaving Flora feeling like a toddler whose just entered into a calculus class. She doesn’t interrupt them, but just listens to the sequence, the sensations, the way their logic embeds itself in her bones like coordinates she can’t quite read but somehow knows are correct.
When it ends, she exhales slowly and nods once. As Rae dissolves back into symmetry, the orangery exhales with them; the temperature equalising again, droplets reforming on the glass. Flora reaches out, brushing her fingers against one of the orange tree’s leaves. Its surface is cool and wet, like the edge of a thought still settling. "Alright," she murmurs under her breath, a trace of wryness flickering through the stillness. "Lets do this."
~FIN
When it ends, she exhales slowly and nods once. As Rae dissolves back into symmetry, the orangery exhales with them; the temperature equalising again, droplets reforming on the glass. Flora reaches out, brushing her fingers against one of the orange tree’s leaves. Its surface is cool and wet, like the edge of a thought still settling. "Alright," she murmurs under her breath, a trace of wryness flickering through the stillness. "Lets do this."
~FIN
