flora
Flora’s grin curves into something sharp and delighted at the tone he drops into, her aqua eyes flaring with wicked amusement. Of course he could rustle up a chastity belt; this is the Dusklight, and Danta is, well, Danta. But the moment he mentions the other toy, her expression does a perfect kombucha-girl wobble, lips pursing, eyebrows lifting, head tilting in a constellation of fleeting yes-no-maybe-actually-tempting-oh-gods-no-that’s-a-lie-maybe-later.
She exhales a bright, helpless laugh. "I mean....Kai and I are still in the stage where sex is always new and fun and we don’t really need to spice things up yet," she admits, sweeping a curl behind her ear with a gesture that’s almost demure before the sparkle returns to her gaze. "But maybe later?" She gives him a look that says definitely later even if she refuses to say it aloud.
His declaration of being more than crow feathers and teeth earns a snicker she barely contains, her smile bright as a struck match as she nods magnanimously, as though granting him the official title of Bastard Supreme. Then he lists her own tricks—the daggers, the healing, the invisibility, the signet ring she used almost exclusively in sexual situations gone bad—and she sighs, rolling her eyes with theatrical resignation before turning her head enough to cast him a wicked, sideways look.
"Naked of everything," she says suggestively, voice warm as wine and twice as dangerous, "you could still do more than I could."
She exhales a bright, helpless laugh. "I mean....Kai and I are still in the stage where sex is always new and fun and we don’t really need to spice things up yet," she admits, sweeping a curl behind her ear with a gesture that’s almost demure before the sparkle returns to her gaze. "But maybe later?" She gives him a look that says definitely later even if she refuses to say it aloud.
His declaration of being more than crow feathers and teeth earns a snicker she barely contains, her smile bright as a struck match as she nods magnanimously, as though granting him the official title of Bastard Supreme. Then he lists her own tricks—the daggers, the healing, the invisibility, the signet ring she used almost exclusively in sexual situations gone bad—and she sighs, rolling her eyes with theatrical resignation before turning her head enough to cast him a wicked, sideways look.
"Naked of everything," she says suggestively, voice warm as wine and twice as dangerous, "you could still do more than I could."
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
