ditch the clowns, get the crown
Flora feels the moment his gaze truly lands on her again, like a string pulled taut inside that's released, and her chest finally slackens. Her relief slips out in a trembling sigh, soft as the rain settling into her curls, though she doesn’t pull back even an inch. Her hands glide from his cheeks into the damp lilac edges of his dragon-hoodie hair, fingers threading through the strands beneath before she loops her arms slowly, carefully, around his neck. It should sound impossible—I don’t know why—something that should ring false or evasive or panicked. But the cold metal on her finger stays calm against her skin, unmoved by the panic in his voice. Truth, every word. Even without it, she’d believe him. Kai could absolutely get in someone’s face. He could throw a drink, he could posture, but not like that. Not with that sharp, wrong edge, not with that vacant determination, not with fear carving shadows under his eyes like that.
Something else touched him tonight. She can feel it in the way his muscles remain coiled beneath her palms, in the way his breath still comes uneven, in the way he checks over her shoulder at Asta like he’s expecting the wendigo-shape to snap back into place. So she angles his face back toward her with the gentlest pressure of her thumbs, making sure his attention stays anchored in the cool blue of her gaze rather than the leftover dread behind her.
"It's an ancient thing," she murmurs gently. "Asta’s haunt. It’s...intense, but it’s him. Just...a very big, very dramatic, scary version."
She doesn’t fully let go of him, but she loosens her hold enough to slide one arm around his waist, tugging him into the curve of her side. "Come on," she whispers, tilting her forehead against his shoulder. "Let’s go back to the Sugartide. We can apologize to Charlie later," she adds, soft but sure, because right now all she wants is to be away from the bonfire and away from the blood moon.
Flora and Kai out!
Something else touched him tonight. She can feel it in the way his muscles remain coiled beneath her palms, in the way his breath still comes uneven, in the way he checks over her shoulder at Asta like he’s expecting the wendigo-shape to snap back into place. So she angles his face back toward her with the gentlest pressure of her thumbs, making sure his attention stays anchored in the cool blue of her gaze rather than the leftover dread behind her.
"It's an ancient thing," she murmurs gently. "Asta’s haunt. It’s...intense, but it’s him. Just...a very big, very dramatic, scary version."
She doesn’t fully let go of him, but she loosens her hold enough to slide one arm around his waist, tugging him into the curve of her side. "Come on," she whispers, tilting her forehead against his shoulder. "Let’s go back to the Sugartide. We can apologize to Charlie later," she adds, soft but sure, because right now all she wants is to be away from the bonfire and away from the blood moon.
Flora and Kai out!
Flora
baby i'm the one to beat
