slow down, you're doing fine
Flora tsks at Kaisel with the sort of playful condescension normally reserved for queens addressing particularly dense courtiers, her grin tugging wide enough to show teeth. "Don’t be jealous that you’re not as natural at flying as I am," she says, lifting her chin with mock loftiness, as though she’s some sky-born prodigy instead of someone who clung to Sohalia’s mane like a child on a runaway merry-go-round.
His promise that Ronin won’t suddenly materialise for a tuck-in earns a soft hum of gratitude, her voice warm enough to melt butter. "And if you need any extra kisses goodnight," she adds lightly, turning her puckered lips toward him with shameless invitation, "just ask."
The shadows of old fear soften as she presses herself in closer; not merely leaning, but settling with that yearning for a kind of closeness that feels almost anatomical, like she could fold herself into his ribs and stay there, warm and safe where the world can’t reach. Her voice gentles into something quieter. "I don’t ever want to be a demigod or anything," she murmurs, fingers curling lightly against his. "But if my only power as an Accepted is just...calling other people to fix things for me..." She trails off with a small shrug, the barest slump of her shoulders betraying how raw the thought is. "It’s hard not to feel like half my power is just borrowing someone else’s."
Their waitress passes by at that exact moment, offering an eye-roll sharp enough to cut fruit before turning on her heel. Flora gives a helpless little smile at the woman's retreating back, then turns slowly to Kaisel, her expression shifting, tightening, crumpling slightly with the kind of discomfort that says I know this is insane but I have to ask anyway. "Hey..." she starts, wrinkling her nose like she’s smelling spoiled milk. "So speaking of Ronin kissing you..." She winces, bracing as though expecting divine lightning. "You, uh, haven’t...slept with anyone in my family, have you?" The question hangs between them like a fragile chandelier—ridiculous, awful, necessary—and her aqua eyes fix on him with desperate hope for the correct answer.
His promise that Ronin won’t suddenly materialise for a tuck-in earns a soft hum of gratitude, her voice warm enough to melt butter. "And if you need any extra kisses goodnight," she adds lightly, turning her puckered lips toward him with shameless invitation, "just ask."
The shadows of old fear soften as she presses herself in closer; not merely leaning, but settling with that yearning for a kind of closeness that feels almost anatomical, like she could fold herself into his ribs and stay there, warm and safe where the world can’t reach. Her voice gentles into something quieter. "I don’t ever want to be a demigod or anything," she murmurs, fingers curling lightly against his. "But if my only power as an Accepted is just...calling other people to fix things for me..." She trails off with a small shrug, the barest slump of her shoulders betraying how raw the thought is. "It’s hard not to feel like half my power is just borrowing someone else’s."
Their waitress passes by at that exact moment, offering an eye-roll sharp enough to cut fruit before turning on her heel. Flora gives a helpless little smile at the woman's retreating back, then turns slowly to Kaisel, her expression shifting, tightening, crumpling slightly with the kind of discomfort that says I know this is insane but I have to ask anyway. "Hey..." she starts, wrinkling her nose like she’s smelling spoiled milk. "So speaking of Ronin kissing you..." She winces, bracing as though expecting divine lightning. "You, uh, haven’t...slept with anyone in my family, have you?" The question hangs between them like a fragile chandelier—ridiculous, awful, necessary—and her aqua eyes fix on him with desperate hope for the correct answer.
Flora
you can't be everything you wanna be before your time
