flora
Flora's lips part, but nothing comes out at first; not because she doesn’t have an answer, but because too many are fighting to be first. The idea of it—of taking Jack’s secret and posting it like a wanted notice, like a lightning strike nailed to every tree—makes something sharp twist behind her ribs, a tight, staggering breath catching halfway up her throat as her eyes flicker wide. "I—" she breathes, her voice barely more than the tremble of her mouth and the flinch of her brows. "I don’t want that either." But the words dissolve the moment they leave her, useless things, a breath without ballast, and her throat bobs as she tries to swallow the ache building like salt behind her teeth. It’s too much. Too soon. The vengeance of it curls like smoke around the edges of her vision, and even though some small savage part of her wants it—wants the world to know, wants to dismantle him in the court of public horror—there’s still too much tangle in her heart, too many threads that haven’t yet been cut clean. "Can we—" Her voice cracks, eyes shining as they lift to his, helpless and soft in the same breath. "Can we talk about it later?" she whispers. "It’s too much to think about right now."
And it is, gods, it is—because before she can even settle the enormity of that conversation into place, before she can stitch together the remnants of who she used to be with who she is now, he is there, lighting up like the sun breaking over the sea, and the whole world tilts again, not with grief this time but with giddy, dizzying joy. Her breath hitches into a laugh—one of those watery, hiccupping ones that slips out sideways like champagne foam—and the sound of his laughter only stokes it. It rises between them like bubbles from a deep sea vent, heat and pressure and impossible beauty. The ring slides onto her finger like it’s always been meant to find her here, like it knew her hand before she did, and the sight of it there—shimmering like the first petal of spring rising from a cracked-open seed—makes her vision blur all over again. Her heart, already storm-tossed, seems to lurch higher, punching at the inside of her chest with something like awe. And gods, she’s so glad she took that sip of water when he'd offered it earlier, because the last thing she’d want is to meet this moment—their first kiss as fiancés—with the taste of stomach acid on her tongue. But she has no chance to think anything further, not really, because then his lips are on hers and her world narrows to this: the press of his mouth, the tremble of their breath, the way her lips keep breaking into a smile no matter how she tries to hold the kiss steady. It’s impossible not to, and when he pulls her fully down, flat on the floor, she barely registers it because he'd already turned her world upside down in the best way.
Her legs are folded awkwardly under her, still tangled in his, and she’s laughing again, quiet and breathless and so full of something luminous it feels like it might spill out of her skin. As he gazes down at her with that mix of giddiness and gravity, she lifts her left hand—the one now ringed with green and rose and light—and gently pushes his hair back from his forehead, her fingers catching against the dampness of his temples. "I think it’s perfect too," she murmurs, voice trembling with wonder. "All the way up here, in the mountains, after you ran to find me when I needed you most...In the place where we first kissed.." Her smile is so wide now it nearly hurts, her cheeks flushed from emotion, her throat working to swallow everything that’s blooming too quickly inside her. "Gods, your fiancée," she whispers, and then inhales sharply like the word alone might detonate inside her. She presses her face against his shoulder, trying to muffle the wild grin that threatens to undo her entirely, a scream of joy bottled in her throat like a firework just waiting to burst.
His hand cups her cheek again, and this time she meets his gaze without flinching. Her own hand rises, fingers curling over his, the diamond and petals and peridot of the ring cool against his skin, and she breathes in the space between them as if it’s the only air she ever wants again. "I’ve never felt so happy," she whispers, voice cracking around it. "Or so loved." And then, with every ounce of promise she has in her, she adds, "I’m going to love you forever."
It’s not just a kiss when she leans in again. It’s a collision of every past version of herself giving way to this new one. Her arm slides around his neck as she inches her hips closer until their bodies are flush, heartbeats crashing like waves against the same shore, and when her lips find his, there’s nothing hesitant in it. Only warmth. Only yes. Only this. Forever.
And it is, gods, it is—because before she can even settle the enormity of that conversation into place, before she can stitch together the remnants of who she used to be with who she is now, he is there, lighting up like the sun breaking over the sea, and the whole world tilts again, not with grief this time but with giddy, dizzying joy. Her breath hitches into a laugh—one of those watery, hiccupping ones that slips out sideways like champagne foam—and the sound of his laughter only stokes it. It rises between them like bubbles from a deep sea vent, heat and pressure and impossible beauty. The ring slides onto her finger like it’s always been meant to find her here, like it knew her hand before she did, and the sight of it there—shimmering like the first petal of spring rising from a cracked-open seed—makes her vision blur all over again. Her heart, already storm-tossed, seems to lurch higher, punching at the inside of her chest with something like awe. And gods, she’s so glad she took that sip of water when he'd offered it earlier, because the last thing she’d want is to meet this moment—their first kiss as fiancés—with the taste of stomach acid on her tongue. But she has no chance to think anything further, not really, because then his lips are on hers and her world narrows to this: the press of his mouth, the tremble of their breath, the way her lips keep breaking into a smile no matter how she tries to hold the kiss steady. It’s impossible not to, and when he pulls her fully down, flat on the floor, she barely registers it because he'd already turned her world upside down in the best way.
Her legs are folded awkwardly under her, still tangled in his, and she’s laughing again, quiet and breathless and so full of something luminous it feels like it might spill out of her skin. As he gazes down at her with that mix of giddiness and gravity, she lifts her left hand—the one now ringed with green and rose and light—and gently pushes his hair back from his forehead, her fingers catching against the dampness of his temples. "I think it’s perfect too," she murmurs, voice trembling with wonder. "All the way up here, in the mountains, after you ran to find me when I needed you most...In the place where we first kissed.." Her smile is so wide now it nearly hurts, her cheeks flushed from emotion, her throat working to swallow everything that’s blooming too quickly inside her. "Gods, your fiancée," she whispers, and then inhales sharply like the word alone might detonate inside her. She presses her face against his shoulder, trying to muffle the wild grin that threatens to undo her entirely, a scream of joy bottled in her throat like a firework just waiting to burst.
His hand cups her cheek again, and this time she meets his gaze without flinching. Her own hand rises, fingers curling over his, the diamond and petals and peridot of the ring cool against his skin, and she breathes in the space between them as if it’s the only air she ever wants again. "I’ve never felt so happy," she whispers, voice cracking around it. "Or so loved." And then, with every ounce of promise she has in her, she adds, "I’m going to love you forever."
It’s not just a kiss when she leans in again. It’s a collision of every past version of herself giving way to this new one. Her arm slides around his neck as she inches her hips closer until their bodies are flush, heartbeats crashing like waves against the same shore, and when her lips find his, there’s nothing hesitant in it. Only warmth. Only yes. Only this. Forever.
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
