flora
Flora freezes for precisely half a heartbeat, just long enough for the performance to land, and then she erupts. "Oh—oh my gods!!!!" she trills, the sound high and bright and entirely sincere despite her theatrics as she claps her hands together and actually bounces once on the balls of her feet, sundress fluttering with the movement. She dances in place without even pretending to contain herself, a fizzing little burst of joy that spills straight out of her chest and into the sunlit terrace. "You're engaged!"
She swoops forward before either of them can blink, sunglasses pushed up into her curls as both hands reach instinctively for Danta’s, her fingers warm and careful as she lifts his hand higher into the light, turning it this way and that with reverent fascination. Her breath leaves her in a dramatic gasp, eyes going wide as she drinks it in. "Asta," she breathes, scandalised and delighted in equal measure, "it's obscene. Look at the size of that. The design. The audacity." Her mouth curls into a grin that threatens to split her face. "Gods it's so perfect!"
She glances up at Danta then, expression softening into something fond and knowing and so full of love it could ache, her thumb giving his knuckles a gentle squeeze. "Of course you said yes," Flora says warmly, as if there had never been a universe in which the answer might have been anything else. Releasing his hand at last, she claps again, quick and bright, laughter threading through the sound as the house seems to hum along with her delight, a window somewhere swinging open to invite the sea breeze closer.
Reaching to drag a chair closer that the spirits are already shoving toward her, Flora turns to Asta, eyes sparkling. "Right, you are telling me everything. Start to finish. I want details. I want feelings. I want to know where you were standing and how dramatic Danta was when you asked."
She swoops forward before either of them can blink, sunglasses pushed up into her curls as both hands reach instinctively for Danta’s, her fingers warm and careful as she lifts his hand higher into the light, turning it this way and that with reverent fascination. Her breath leaves her in a dramatic gasp, eyes going wide as she drinks it in. "Asta," she breathes, scandalised and delighted in equal measure, "it's obscene. Look at the size of that. The design. The audacity." Her mouth curls into a grin that threatens to split her face. "Gods it's so perfect!"
She glances up at Danta then, expression softening into something fond and knowing and so full of love it could ache, her thumb giving his knuckles a gentle squeeze. "Of course you said yes," Flora says warmly, as if there had never been a universe in which the answer might have been anything else. Releasing his hand at last, she claps again, quick and bright, laughter threading through the sound as the house seems to hum along with her delight, a window somewhere swinging open to invite the sea breeze closer.
Reaching to drag a chair closer that the spirits are already shoving toward her, Flora turns to Asta, eyes sparkling. "Right, you are telling me everything. Start to finish. I want details. I want feelings. I want to know where you were standing and how dramatic Danta was when you asked."
The rumors are terrible and cruel
But honey, most of them are true
But honey, most of them are true
