Need a hundred lifetimes kinda love
The padding of all their winterwear pressing in together makes it feel like she's far too removed from him still. That no matter how tight he tries to crush her into him at this moment, he's hugging a giant marshmallow and not a sad Flora, unable to reach her through the fluff of jackets and warmth she's buried in. Maybe that's why he can't fully snuff out the tears that rise in earnest now.
The layers mute the sensation of her sorrow shuddering up through the grip, but he gets a sense for it in the anxious scrabbling of her fingers against his sides and the fact she's vibrating at all. Never wanting to see her sad, but knowing you can't always stop it, he's does his best to just hold her through it, tightening his arms around her like strength alone could take this from her. "We can fix her. She'll be good as new in no time," he offers, of the Sugartide, assuming she's lamenting the wreckage of the ship and all the emotional drain that built up around her splintering.
When she starts to shift beneath him, seeking distance, he's loathe to grant it. He's half a mind to refuse her, certain the swell hasn't passed and certain he'd rather his jackets take it than her cheeks. His grip slackens enough though, granting her the space to lean back out of curiosity if nothing else. He looks down expectantly as she blinks up, the shake of her head like a need to loosen up the grief to let her voice find room instead. What she says surprises him enough he almost laughs, but he's got the sense and the speed to bury that into a slow-moving smile instead, the stretch of it blooming in the wake of her struggling words. "I don't think it gets much more perfect than this," he counters with complete honesty. "I mean, maybe the not scaring us and ruining part of your boat would have been better today, but this is way better for tomorrow. I don't see how we're ever going to forget this night, and I love that, because I have a feeling it's going to get difficult remembering all my favorite nights with you soon when everything's ranking at the top." That is to say, sometimes a little imperfection is actually the most perfect thing in the world.
Now he absolutely cannot keep back the short pip of a laugh that lifts at the near wail of despair over hot cocoa. Wordlessly, he releases his entire hold around her, linking his puffy arm around hers. "Spiiiiiiice!" he calls out to the little white dragon, likely still on guard dog duty. "Think you can man the wheel and make sure we don't crash for a hot minute?" He jerks his head toward the wheel, the bag of air he'd reopened during the spin still filling their sails. Nature Frey helped get the whales off them, but he absolutely wants to continue helping themselves by also getting out, before they prove interesting again and Frey's redirection wears off. They've got the time to sneak down into the kitchenette and easily solve one of these current problems though, especially with captain Spice on deck.
"Good thing there is always more cocoa," he says with a squeeze against her arm, leading the charge back down the stairs. Now the kitchenette already kinda looked like a bomb went off when he left it after all his topping additions to the cocoa, so being smacked around by whales probably didn't help clean it up at all, but there's some hot chocolate magic to be found yet.
The layers mute the sensation of her sorrow shuddering up through the grip, but he gets a sense for it in the anxious scrabbling of her fingers against his sides and the fact she's vibrating at all. Never wanting to see her sad, but knowing you can't always stop it, he's does his best to just hold her through it, tightening his arms around her like strength alone could take this from her. "We can fix her. She'll be good as new in no time," he offers, of the Sugartide, assuming she's lamenting the wreckage of the ship and all the emotional drain that built up around her splintering.
When she starts to shift beneath him, seeking distance, he's loathe to grant it. He's half a mind to refuse her, certain the swell hasn't passed and certain he'd rather his jackets take it than her cheeks. His grip slackens enough though, granting her the space to lean back out of curiosity if nothing else. He looks down expectantly as she blinks up, the shake of her head like a need to loosen up the grief to let her voice find room instead. What she says surprises him enough he almost laughs, but he's got the sense and the speed to bury that into a slow-moving smile instead, the stretch of it blooming in the wake of her struggling words. "I don't think it gets much more perfect than this," he counters with complete honesty. "I mean, maybe the not scaring us and ruining part of your boat would have been better today, but this is way better for tomorrow. I don't see how we're ever going to forget this night, and I love that, because I have a feeling it's going to get difficult remembering all my favorite nights with you soon when everything's ranking at the top." That is to say, sometimes a little imperfection is actually the most perfect thing in the world.
Now he absolutely cannot keep back the short pip of a laugh that lifts at the near wail of despair over hot cocoa. Wordlessly, he releases his entire hold around her, linking his puffy arm around hers. "Spiiiiiiice!" he calls out to the little white dragon, likely still on guard dog duty. "Think you can man the wheel and make sure we don't crash for a hot minute?" He jerks his head toward the wheel, the bag of air he'd reopened during the spin still filling their sails. Nature Frey helped get the whales off them, but he absolutely wants to continue helping themselves by also getting out, before they prove interesting again and Frey's redirection wears off. They've got the time to sneak down into the kitchenette and easily solve one of these current problems though, especially with captain Spice on deck.
"Good thing there is always more cocoa," he says with a squeeze against her arm, leading the charge back down the stairs. Now the kitchenette already kinda looked like a bomb went off when he left it after all his topping additions to the cocoa, so being smacked around by whales probably didn't help clean it up at all, but there's some hot chocolate magic to be found yet.
Kaisel
I could say forever, but forever ain't long enough
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
