I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings
Hopeless joy floods through Flora at his murmured agreement, wrapping itself around her ribs and settling there with a warmth that has nothing to do with cocoa or shared body heat, and she nods softly against him as she answers in the same quiet, unwavering certainty that lives at the core of her love for him. "Especially those," she says, voice gentle but unflinching, because she does not want him only when the days are bright and easy and worth bragging about, but when they are heavy and dim and exhausting, when sadness sits between them like a third presence, when nothing happens at all and that somehow feels harder than everything else. She wants him on the days where laughter comes easily and on the days where it does not come at all, and the truth of that feels so complete it almost aches. His soft ditto makes her smile stretch wider than she knows how to manage, the champagne fizz of his joy spilling straight into her as if she has tasted it herself, bright and effervescent, leaving her giddy with the impossible fullness of being loved so entirely.
Then Spice chooses chaos, and Flora dissolves into helpless giggles as Kaisel yelps and hops back, her laughter bright and breathless until his sudden, sharp inhale cuts clean through it, wide-eyed and urgent in a way that makes her heart stutter. For half a terrifying second she is certain they are about to plough into something catastrophic, some hidden iceberg of the sky that will send them tumbling in spectacular tragedy, but when she whirls to follow his pointing hand the sight steals the breath straight out of her lungs instead. Her abandoned hot chocolate clinks softly against the ledge as she stares upward, whispering, "Oh my gods," under her breath, awe threading every syllable, because a reckless part of her had wondered if the map was a lie or a hopeful exaggeration, and whether they might have built this entire night on faith alone. Maybe they have been impossibly lucky, maybe the stars have conspired in their favour, but either way the truth is there now, undeniable and enormous and gliding through the auroras like a promise fulfilled.
She laughs again as he thumps her shoulder with the map, snatching it from his hands with eager delight and a grin that feels too big for her face, and she shoots a look down at Spice with raised brows and shining eyes. "Open the bag," she tells the dragon with breathless excitement, already stepping away from Kaisel and back toward the wheel, her movements quick but sure, fuelled by instinct and wonder in equal measure. Spice responds at once, nosing open the enchanted purse as a rush of captured wind spills free and fills the Sugartide’s sails, and Flora’s hands find the wheel and turns them gently toward the drifting pod.
Then Spice chooses chaos, and Flora dissolves into helpless giggles as Kaisel yelps and hops back, her laughter bright and breathless until his sudden, sharp inhale cuts clean through it, wide-eyed and urgent in a way that makes her heart stutter. For half a terrifying second she is certain they are about to plough into something catastrophic, some hidden iceberg of the sky that will send them tumbling in spectacular tragedy, but when she whirls to follow his pointing hand the sight steals the breath straight out of her lungs instead. Her abandoned hot chocolate clinks softly against the ledge as she stares upward, whispering, "Oh my gods," under her breath, awe threading every syllable, because a reckless part of her had wondered if the map was a lie or a hopeful exaggeration, and whether they might have built this entire night on faith alone. Maybe they have been impossibly lucky, maybe the stars have conspired in their favour, but either way the truth is there now, undeniable and enormous and gliding through the auroras like a promise fulfilled.
She laughs again as he thumps her shoulder with the map, snatching it from his hands with eager delight and a grin that feels too big for her face, and she shoots a look down at Spice with raised brows and shining eyes. "Open the bag," she tells the dragon with breathless excitement, already stepping away from Kaisel and back toward the wheel, her movements quick but sure, fuelled by instinct and wonder in equal measure. Spice responds at once, nosing open the enchanted purse as a rush of captured wind spills free and fills the Sugartide’s sails, and Flora’s hands find the wheel and turns them gently toward the drifting pod.
and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this
