Used to keep it cool, used to be a fool
She laughs. It normally fills him with joy, but this one feels more out of place than usual, although his own nervous chuckle rolls free, much like a dog barking because another dog is, clueless about what or why. He can faintly catch the tilt of her head, draped in a backsplash of blue, and it feels like it snaps the confusion from his chest to see her in motion again.
It's the hug of her hand that gives him the most reassurance though, worry easing through the curl of fingers like something never meant to be held onto. She uses the extension of his arm like a reel, and he sways with the force of her joining him fully, a soft oof escaping as her body presses back along him. Assborn, and his smile cracks, apologetic in its tilt as he grunts in agreement. It had been a very assborn thing to do.
It's a slap then, less in violence and more in shock, to hear the rest of what follows suit. "What!?" he nearly choking around the sound as the force of it leaving takes half a lung with him. Meanwhile, she's happily bounding away, light as can be while he feels about ready to plummet well below the sand. "Fuck," he bites out, "n o." It's sharp and strong in it's disagreement, and he's still winded by the disbelief as he sways after her, the feeling of the shore coming in and out of reach and then peeling away with the waves underfoot not helping counterbalance the shifting inside him one bit.
"Is this about the fork and the knife?" he demands, tugging back on her arm for a second as they both find enough purchase to walk instead of float. He needs her full attention, so he spins her back towards him with an urgency to hold her gaze. "Flora," he stretches her name like it's the first time he's ever said it, folding meaning into the stress of each sound. "You are the only some I want. You're everything, Flora. All that I could want or need, right here." He tugs on her hand in his, holding it up as if proof, in case she forgot. "I need you to believe that, or else I'm not leaving this beach until you do." He considers, briefly, proving it by dropping to one knee even.
It's the hug of her hand that gives him the most reassurance though, worry easing through the curl of fingers like something never meant to be held onto. She uses the extension of his arm like a reel, and he sways with the force of her joining him fully, a soft oof escaping as her body presses back along him. Assborn, and his smile cracks, apologetic in its tilt as he grunts in agreement. It had been a very assborn thing to do.
It's a slap then, less in violence and more in shock, to hear the rest of what follows suit. "What!?" he nearly choking around the sound as the force of it leaving takes half a lung with him. Meanwhile, she's happily bounding away, light as can be while he feels about ready to plummet well below the sand. "Fuck," he bites out, "n o." It's sharp and strong in it's disagreement, and he's still winded by the disbelief as he sways after her, the feeling of the shore coming in and out of reach and then peeling away with the waves underfoot not helping counterbalance the shifting inside him one bit.
"Is this about the fork and the knife?" he demands, tugging back on her arm for a second as they both find enough purchase to walk instead of float. He needs her full attention, so he spins her back towards him with an urgency to hold her gaze. "Flora," he stretches her name like it's the first time he's ever said it, folding meaning into the stress of each sound. "You are the only some I want. You're everything, Flora. All that I could want or need, right here." He tugs on her hand in his, holding it up as if proof, in case she forgot. "I need you to believe that, or else I'm not leaving this beach until you do." He considers, briefly, proving it by dropping to one knee even.
Kaisel
All about the bounce in my step
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
