and all that we intend is scrawled in sand
Flora wrinkles her nose the moment Kai mentions the effect Frey had on the rest of the party, the expression reflexive and unguarded. A tired, self-deprecating laugh slips out of her as she drops her forehead briefly against his chest, the sound more breath than humour. "I didn’t even think about that," she admits with a sigh, shoulders lifting and falling as though the weight of the oversight has just now found somewhere to land.
She pulls back enough to look up at him, rolling her eyes with affectionate resignation. "Honestly, between Danta and Charlie and Asta, I’m pretty sure they can keep themselves entertained without us." A small shrug follows, loose and tired. When he says he didn’t want to be around anyone Frey-touched, her brows lift a fraction, curiosity flickering despite everything. For half a second she wonders if something happened—if someone flirted with him or he inadvertently to them, if something ridiculous or awkward unfolded—and then the thought drifts away just as quickly. Right now she does not have the energy to care, let alone unpack it. Whatever it was can wait until morning, when the world feels less like it’s held together with twine and they can laugh about it.
As his forehead rests against hers, she exhales slowly, her hands loosening at his lower back only to roam a little instead, palms pressing into the familiar solidity of him, following the steady rise and fall of his breath. "It’s Danta’s party," she murmurs, voice dry with exhausted humour. "If they want to fuck in the kitchen, they’re welcome to." One corner of her mouth quirks as she slides her hand into Kaisel’s, fingers threading through his. "Our room is the only one off limits."
She gives his hand a gentle squeeze, adoring and grateful, and then turns toward the door, already angling her body as if plotting a careful escape. "Come on," she says softly, determination edging through the weariness, fully intent on Mission-Impossibleing their way upstairs. "I guess it would make things too easy if you had an invisibility ring too," she chuckles.
She pulls back enough to look up at him, rolling her eyes with affectionate resignation. "Honestly, between Danta and Charlie and Asta, I’m pretty sure they can keep themselves entertained without us." A small shrug follows, loose and tired. When he says he didn’t want to be around anyone Frey-touched, her brows lift a fraction, curiosity flickering despite everything. For half a second she wonders if something happened—if someone flirted with him or he inadvertently to them, if something ridiculous or awkward unfolded—and then the thought drifts away just as quickly. Right now she does not have the energy to care, let alone unpack it. Whatever it was can wait until morning, when the world feels less like it’s held together with twine and they can laugh about it.
As his forehead rests against hers, she exhales slowly, her hands loosening at his lower back only to roam a little instead, palms pressing into the familiar solidity of him, following the steady rise and fall of his breath. "It’s Danta’s party," she murmurs, voice dry with exhausted humour. "If they want to fuck in the kitchen, they’re welcome to." One corner of her mouth quirks as she slides her hand into Kaisel’s, fingers threading through his. "Our room is the only one off limits."
She gives his hand a gentle squeeze, adoring and grateful, and then turns toward the door, already angling her body as if plotting a careful escape. "Come on," she says softly, determination edging through the weariness, fully intent on Mission-Impossibleing their way upstairs. "I guess it would make things too easy if you had an invisibility ring too," she chuckles.
