slow down, you're doing fine
Flora’s eyes widen with scandalised delight, her hand lifting dramatically to her chest as though he has just invoked some ancient Caido law. "Oh, I do, do I?" she echoes, staring skeptically down at her left hand as if checking for a ring that might grant him such audacious privileges. She taps her fingertip thoughtfully against her cheek, then tilts her head with a slow, exaggerated hum. "I dunno.." she muses, lips pursing in an overdone display of great moral consideration. "That definitely seems like a husband privilege. Or fiancé, at the very least."
The deadpan lasts exactly two seconds before her smile cracks through, bright and impossible to hide. She nudges her shoulder warmly against him, giving in with all the grace of someone who had never intended to resist in the first place. "But I’ll make an exception," she concedes, voice softening with the affection she never bothers to disguise around him. "Because of how much I like you."
She barely has time to bask in the warmth of the moment before Kai suddenly scoots away from her, and she blinks at the abrupt loss of his heat as he slips out of the booth. Her gaze follows him just in time to catch him pilfering a napkin holder like it’s a priceless relic, and a snort breaks free before she can smother it behind her hand. Whatever he’s planning, she can already tell it is going to be ridiculous.
Straightening, Flora pulls her shoulders back and arranges herself with a rigid precision that would make a marble statue proud. She lines her spine like a steel rod, presses her lips into a thin, disapproving line, and narrows her eyes with chilly, ancient judgement, doing her best impression of someone who has centuries of grump stored in their bones. By the time Kai reappears around the corner, she’s sitting bolt-upright, arms crossed with frosty gravitas, every inch of her radiating Asta’s particular blend of elegance, restraint, and deep, abiding irritation with the world, and she waits, perfectly poised, for him to make his opening move.
The deadpan lasts exactly two seconds before her smile cracks through, bright and impossible to hide. She nudges her shoulder warmly against him, giving in with all the grace of someone who had never intended to resist in the first place. "But I’ll make an exception," she concedes, voice softening with the affection she never bothers to disguise around him. "Because of how much I like you."
She barely has time to bask in the warmth of the moment before Kai suddenly scoots away from her, and she blinks at the abrupt loss of his heat as he slips out of the booth. Her gaze follows him just in time to catch him pilfering a napkin holder like it’s a priceless relic, and a snort breaks free before she can smother it behind her hand. Whatever he’s planning, she can already tell it is going to be ridiculous.
Straightening, Flora pulls her shoulders back and arranges herself with a rigid precision that would make a marble statue proud. She lines her spine like a steel rod, presses her lips into a thin, disapproving line, and narrows her eyes with chilly, ancient judgement, doing her best impression of someone who has centuries of grump stored in their bones. By the time Kai reappears around the corner, she’s sitting bolt-upright, arms crossed with frosty gravitas, every inch of her radiating Asta’s particular blend of elegance, restraint, and deep, abiding irritation with the world, and she waits, perfectly poised, for him to make his opening move.
Flora
you can't be everything you wanna be before your time
