slow down, you're doing fine
Flora’s grin goes slow and feline, the kind that promises mischief and triumph in equal measure, her eyes narrowing with delighted challenge. "Sure," she purrs, stretching the word like honey as she taps one finger thoughtfully against her lips. "And you can even have first pick on the dragons." Her tone is outrageously generous, almost saintly—until the playful glint betrays her entirely. "Not that it’ll help you. I’m still winning." There is no universe in which she is not winning their race, and the knowledge curls bright and smug through her shoulders as she sits back against him.
As Kai processes the horror of her question, Flora nods vigorously, eyes blowing wide in near-trauma. "Right?? It’s bad enough when it’s my friends," she mutters, wrinkling her nose like she’s smelled something suspicious. "But when it's someone I'm dating...." But then he says cousin-uncle and her grimace morphs into a despairing groan before collapsing dramatically against him again, her curls spilling everywhere, her life briefly ending over the imagined genealogical nightmare.
And then he grabs her, twisting, pulling, rearranging her as if she weighs nothing, the booth rattling, the silverware clattering, her laughter tumbling up helplessly in her throat. She melts into him instantly, joy quickening through her chest like a skipped heartbeat. His reassurance wraps around her as warm as the sweep of his fingers through her hair, and the press of his lips against her neck sends a fluttering warmth down her spine, sparking bright and giddy beneath her skin.
"Gods," she sighs into him, delight widening her grin, "you really do know how to make a girl feel special, don’t yo—"
AHEM.
The sharp, stabbing sound of the world’s most unimpressed waitress slices right through the moment as the check slaps down onto the table. If anything, it only makes Flora’s joy fizz brighter, like shaken champagne. She giggles—full, musical, and absolutely unrepentant—as though they’re teenagers caught making out behind the gym during class. "Thank youuuuuuuuu," she trills, sweet and airy.
Dipping into her pocket, she scatters an overly generous handful of coins onto the tray without even counting them, the tip large enough to absolve them of every last sin committed in this booth. Then she nudges Kai pointedly, wriggling like she might physically shove him out if he doesn’t move. Though the moment he stands, Flora practically glues herself to his side, sliding beneath his arm and pressing close as if she was built for exactly this shape of him. Her curls brush against his shoulder as she beams up at him, full of anticipation and leftover affection and the sugary-syrup glow of too much breakfast and too much love.
"Come on," she chirps, nudging his hip with hers. "Let’s go get Asta’s tea."
She bundles herself back into her jacket with a little hop, loops her arm through his again, and with a last quick kiss to his shoulder, steps out with him into the rain.
~FIN
As Kai processes the horror of her question, Flora nods vigorously, eyes blowing wide in near-trauma. "Right?? It’s bad enough when it’s my friends," she mutters, wrinkling her nose like she’s smelled something suspicious. "But when it's someone I'm dating...." But then he says cousin-uncle and her grimace morphs into a despairing groan before collapsing dramatically against him again, her curls spilling everywhere, her life briefly ending over the imagined genealogical nightmare.
And then he grabs her, twisting, pulling, rearranging her as if she weighs nothing, the booth rattling, the silverware clattering, her laughter tumbling up helplessly in her throat. She melts into him instantly, joy quickening through her chest like a skipped heartbeat. His reassurance wraps around her as warm as the sweep of his fingers through her hair, and the press of his lips against her neck sends a fluttering warmth down her spine, sparking bright and giddy beneath her skin.
"Gods," she sighs into him, delight widening her grin, "you really do know how to make a girl feel special, don’t yo—"
AHEM.
The sharp, stabbing sound of the world’s most unimpressed waitress slices right through the moment as the check slaps down onto the table. If anything, it only makes Flora’s joy fizz brighter, like shaken champagne. She giggles—full, musical, and absolutely unrepentant—as though they’re teenagers caught making out behind the gym during class. "Thank youuuuuuuuu," she trills, sweet and airy.
Dipping into her pocket, she scatters an overly generous handful of coins onto the tray without even counting them, the tip large enough to absolve them of every last sin committed in this booth. Then she nudges Kai pointedly, wriggling like she might physically shove him out if he doesn’t move. Though the moment he stands, Flora practically glues herself to his side, sliding beneath his arm and pressing close as if she was built for exactly this shape of him. Her curls brush against his shoulder as she beams up at him, full of anticipation and leftover affection and the sugary-syrup glow of too much breakfast and too much love.
"Come on," she chirps, nudging his hip with hers. "Let’s go get Asta’s tea."
She bundles herself back into her jacket with a little hop, loops her arm through his again, and with a last quick kiss to his shoulder, steps out with him into the rain.
~FIN
Flora
you can't be everything you wanna be before your time
