and all that we intend is scrawled in sand
Flora barely registers the way Kai subtly staggers, the way his weight shifts unevenly against the sink. All that matters is that he’s here, that his arms are still wrapped around her, that she hasn’t slipped loose of him the way everything else seems to be doing. The small tears in her dress, the delicate lace pulled and snagged, mean absolutely nothing now. She could be in rags or silk or nothing at all; the only thing grounding her is the solid press of him holding her together.
She shakes her head slowly against his chest,literal curls brushing his collar as she tries to follow the thread of his words without losing her grip on herself. "I channelled," she murmurs, voice hoarse and thin. "So...so I don’t think they can lie." Her brow knits, confusion tangling with fear. "And Sunjata was there, and Hotaru is their demigod." The logic spills out in fragments, desperate to make sense of something that refuses to line up. "Why would they lie to me?"
Her head lifts then, just enough to catch his face, and for a heartbeat she doesn’t understand what he’s actually suggesting. The words hover, half-formed, like they’re refusing to land. Then they do. The realisation hits her all at once, cold and brutal, and she stills completely in his arms. Horror blooms sharp and blinding, squeezing her lungs until her breath comes shallow and quick. Her fingers clutch harder at his suit, knuckles whitening as her eyes fill too fast, tears spilling before she can stop them.
"Wait," she whispers, the word barely there at all. Her gaze flicks up to Kai's face, searching, pleading, terrified of the answer even as she asks. "You think she might be...dead?" The word comes out small and broken, trembling between them as Flora presses closer to him, as though she might disappear if she lets even a sliver of space open up.
She shakes her head slowly against his chest,
Her head lifts then, just enough to catch his face, and for a heartbeat she doesn’t understand what he’s actually suggesting. The words hover, half-formed, like they’re refusing to land. Then they do. The realisation hits her all at once, cold and brutal, and she stills completely in his arms. Horror blooms sharp and blinding, squeezing her lungs until her breath comes shallow and quick. Her fingers clutch harder at his suit, knuckles whitening as her eyes fill too fast, tears spilling before she can stop them.
"Wait," she whispers, the word barely there at all. Her gaze flicks up to Kai's face, searching, pleading, terrified of the answer even as she asks. "You think she might be...dead?" The word comes out small and broken, trembling between them as Flora presses closer to him, as though she might disappear if she lets even a sliver of space open up.
