flora
An explanation tries to claw its way up her throat the second his arms close around her, the words already half-formed and useless all at once, and then a sob breaks free instead, sharp and humiliating, collapsing the whole attempt before it ever reaches daylight. What is she even meant to say to him? That seeing Jack hurt? That being met with that much cold felt like having old scars torn open, that an apology rejected can still ache like a fresh wound? None of it feels fair to lay at Kaisel’s feet, and yet gods he'd come running just because she asked, all to see her crying over someone else.
The guilt lands hard and sudden, even as the tears keep coming, hot and unstoppable, and she hates that she is pressing them into his chest at all. These are tears meant for Sohalia, meant for quiet rooms and closed doors, not for the man she loves now, the one who has shown up without hesitation.
Flora shakes her head against him, breath stuttering as she tries to pull herself back together, whispering a soft, breathless, "thanks for coming," the words barely making it out. She draws back just enough to look up at him, hair a mess around her face, eyes red-rimmed and shining, her expression caught somewhere between grief and being utterly lost. "I’m sorry, I—" she starts, and then falters, another sob hitching painfully at the back of her throat as she shakes her head again, helpless and painfully aware of how wrong this feels, crying over an old love in the arms of the man who has given her nothing but everything.
The guilt lands hard and sudden, even as the tears keep coming, hot and unstoppable, and she hates that she is pressing them into his chest at all. These are tears meant for Sohalia, meant for quiet rooms and closed doors, not for the man she loves now, the one who has shown up without hesitation.
Flora shakes her head against him, breath stuttering as she tries to pull herself back together, whispering a soft, breathless, "thanks for coming," the words barely making it out. She draws back just enough to look up at him, hair a mess around her face, eyes red-rimmed and shining, her expression caught somewhere between grief and being utterly lost. "I’m sorry, I—" she starts, and then falters, another sob hitching painfully at the back of her throat as she shakes her head again, helpless and painfully aware of how wrong this feels, crying over an old love in the arms of the man who has given her nothing but everything.
Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness
'Cause it's all over now, all out to sea
'Cause it's all over now, all out to sea
