flora
Flora nods immediately. "Yeah, exactly. Maybe it could just start with something small—one side of Haulani to the other—and then expand from there." Her tone is thoughtful, already plotting out the possibilities in her head as Ronin plucks locations seemingly from right out of her thoughts.
When he leans forward and reaches for her hands, the movement catches her completely off guard. She blinks, startled by the sudden warmth of his palms closing around hers, and lets out a small, breathy laugh. She’d half-expected him to go broody and haunted at the mention of Enzo, so the gentleness of his smile is entirely unexpected. It fills her chest with something golden, a rush of warmth that loosens a knot she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
"Then the dinner has to be at my house," she says quickly, her voice breaking into a bright, watery laugh. "Because I’m going to bubble-wrap Enzo and not let him out of my sight again for at least a year." The image is ridiculous, but her tone makes it clear she’s only half joking.
But when he tells her he’s proud of her, something in her stills. Her shoulders drop, all the bravado sliding away like tidewater leaving the sand. The smile she gives him is luminous but fragile, threaded through with emotion she can’t quite disguise. Memories flicker behind it; those awkward, difficult years of sharp words and distance, of learning each other slowly and painfully, of trying to build something that should have been simple but never was because of the complicated circumstances of her conception.
"Thanks," she says softly, the word catching faintly in her throat. Her eyes shimmer as she meets his, and though she tries for levity, the sincerity wins out. "That...means a lot, Ronin."
When he leans forward and reaches for her hands, the movement catches her completely off guard. She blinks, startled by the sudden warmth of his palms closing around hers, and lets out a small, breathy laugh. She’d half-expected him to go broody and haunted at the mention of Enzo, so the gentleness of his smile is entirely unexpected. It fills her chest with something golden, a rush of warmth that loosens a knot she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
"Then the dinner has to be at my house," she says quickly, her voice breaking into a bright, watery laugh. "Because I’m going to bubble-wrap Enzo and not let him out of my sight again for at least a year." The image is ridiculous, but her tone makes it clear she’s only half joking.
But when he tells her he’s proud of her, something in her stills. Her shoulders drop, all the bravado sliding away like tidewater leaving the sand. The smile she gives him is luminous but fragile, threaded through with emotion she can’t quite disguise. Memories flicker behind it; those awkward, difficult years of sharp words and distance, of learning each other slowly and painfully, of trying to build something that should have been simple but never was because of the complicated circumstances of her conception.
"Thanks," she says softly, the word catching faintly in her throat. Her eyes shimmer as she meets his, and though she tries for levity, the sincerity wins out. "That...means a lot, Ronin."
and if you'd never come for me, I might've drowned in the melancholy
I swore my loyalty to me, myself, and I, Right before you lit my sky up
I swore my loyalty to me, myself, and I, Right before you lit my sky up
