is this the end of all the endings?
Fixing him with a bright, unbothered grin, Flora tips her head and declares, "Eating a little mud is totally normal, babe." The words are sunny and shameless, her curls dripping as she watches him with amused defiance. At his jab about her filthy mouth, she only arches her brows and flashes him a grin that borders on wicked. "Probably why I’m stronger than you, too."
When he threatens her with monster domination, she gasps theatrically, hand pressed to her chest. "Excuse me? Maybe I’ll just have to make two monsters then. One for competition, and one to avenge the first’s tragic loss to your delusions." The laughter that follows blends with the buzz of the jungle, light and bright as the water running down the vines.
For someone who usually seems untouchable—all gleam and gold and perfect control—Flora looks gloriously undone in the Oerwoud. The jungle clings to her, fabric plastered against her body, curls frizzing into a halo that gleams whenever the light catches. None of it seems to bother her, surprisingly. She only brushes a vine from her shoulder and adds, "Maybe we do our Halo date first, before the Stormbreak kite-flying one. Give Zavien time to cool off."
Kai's talk of jungle spaghetti breaks a laugh from her, that loose, easy kind that seems to rise straight from her ribs. Time with him always ends up this way: the world dissolving into something ridiculous and joyful and gods she adores the effortless way he just weaves laughter into their lives. "You think so?" she says, eyes bright as she turns toward him. "Bet if we listen really close, we’ll hear a giant mouth slurping up the vines."
Then, without warning, she demonstrates, lips pursing as she lets out an exaggerated, noisy slurp, the kind you make when pretending to suck up a long noodle. She keeps at it as she leans toward him, chin tilting up, gaze flicking to his mouth like she’s about to kiss him. If and when he leans in, she'll press a mud-smeared finger right between them in a sneaky attempt at giving him first taste of mud, aka jungle spaghetti sauce.
When he threatens her with monster domination, she gasps theatrically, hand pressed to her chest. "Excuse me? Maybe I’ll just have to make two monsters then. One for competition, and one to avenge the first’s tragic loss to your delusions." The laughter that follows blends with the buzz of the jungle, light and bright as the water running down the vines.
For someone who usually seems untouchable—all gleam and gold and perfect control—Flora looks gloriously undone in the Oerwoud. The jungle clings to her, fabric plastered against her body, curls frizzing into a halo that gleams whenever the light catches. None of it seems to bother her, surprisingly. She only brushes a vine from her shoulder and adds, "Maybe we do our Halo date first, before the Stormbreak kite-flying one. Give Zavien time to cool off."
Kai's talk of jungle spaghetti breaks a laugh from her, that loose, easy kind that seems to rise straight from her ribs. Time with him always ends up this way: the world dissolving into something ridiculous and joyful and gods she adores the effortless way he just weaves laughter into their lives. "You think so?" she says, eyes bright as she turns toward him. "Bet if we listen really close, we’ll hear a giant mouth slurping up the vines."
Then, without warning, she demonstrates, lips pursing as she lets out an exaggerated, noisy slurp, the kind you make when pretending to suck up a long noodle. She keeps at it as she leans toward him, chin tilting up, gaze flicking to his mouth like she’s about to kiss him. If and when he leans in, she'll press a mud-smeared finger right between them in a sneaky attempt at giving him first taste of mud, aka jungle spaghetti sauce.
my broken bones are mending
