flora
Flora blinks once, twice, and then a slow third time that feels less like confusion and more like her brain gently recalibrating to accept that she has, in fact, walked in on the Maverick—feared, respected, occasionally murderous—curled up inside a fully committed blanket fort that looks like it was engineered by a child with a sugar rush and the architectural ambitions of a minor god. If anyone ever accused Kaisel of being immature again, she is absolutely keeping this memory tucked behind her ribs like a pressed flower. Thirty-eight years old and building forts during work hours; the mental image blooms in her with wicked delight.
Her grin spreads fast as she drops to her knees without hesitation, jeans tugging awkwardly as she crawls inside with the shameless enthusiasm of someone discovering forbidden treasure. She instantly regrets denim—Danta's striped pajama pants look like pure, decadent freedom—and she briefly imagines herself wrapped in them like a blanket. Later, maybe, if things with Kai and Asta didn't blow up.
The fort swallows her gently as she settles in, and she accepts the offered wine with the sort of ease that suggests of course Danta has wine within reach inside of his fort. Why wouldn’t he? This is the Dusklight. Of course this man preps for hospitality inside fabric-based architecture.
"Kai has gone to apologize," she says, painting the word with theatrical gravitas as her aqua eyes glitter. "For what happened at the Festival." The grin that follows is all sunshine and secrets. "And I sent him with a box of that tea I know Asta likes, so hopefully he gets at least one bonus point for bribery." She lifts her glass in a tiny toasting gesture, voice dropping into conspiratorial warmth. "The rest is...well. Up to him now."
Her grin spreads fast as she drops to her knees without hesitation, jeans tugging awkwardly as she crawls inside with the shameless enthusiasm of someone discovering forbidden treasure. She instantly regrets denim—Danta's striped pajama pants look like pure, decadent freedom—and she briefly imagines herself wrapped in them like a blanket. Later, maybe, if things with Kai and Asta didn't blow up.
The fort swallows her gently as she settles in, and she accepts the offered wine with the sort of ease that suggests of course Danta has wine within reach inside of his fort. Why wouldn’t he? This is the Dusklight. Of course this man preps for hospitality inside fabric-based architecture.
"Kai has gone to apologize," she says, painting the word with theatrical gravitas as her aqua eyes glitter. "For what happened at the Festival." The grin that follows is all sunshine and secrets. "And I sent him with a box of that tea I know Asta likes, so hopefully he gets at least one bonus point for bribery." She lifts her glass in a tiny toasting gesture, voice dropping into conspiratorial warmth. "The rest is...well. Up to him now."
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
