flora
Flora’s eyes slide between the Ancients as they speak, bright and soft all at once, catching the way their memories overlap and settle together without effort, one recollection folding neatly into the next. There is something intoxicating about it, that seamlessness, and it makes her giddy in a way that lifts right up behind her ribs, the kind of feeling that almost—almost—tips her toward spilling a secret of her own. And she might have, if not for the fact that the moment felt so carefully lit, so perfectly theirs. So she keeps it tucked away, smiling instead, letting their joy stay untouched and unshadowed.
"Ugh," Flora sighs, tilting her head back in exaggerated surrender, the sound pure affection wrapped in dramatic misery. "You’re disgusting. Both of you." The grin that follows is immediate and unrepentant, her gaze snapping back to Danta at the mention of invitations. "And I should hope so," she adds, mock-stern and gleefully pleased.
Her smile sharpens then, turning playful and dangerous as she leans just a fraction closer, eyes glinting with mischief. "Now," Flora says lightly, already laughing as the thought strikes her, "important question." An intentional pause, perfectly timed. "Will there be karaoke at the wedding?"
"Ugh," Flora sighs, tilting her head back in exaggerated surrender, the sound pure affection wrapped in dramatic misery. "You’re disgusting. Both of you." The grin that follows is immediate and unrepentant, her gaze snapping back to Danta at the mention of invitations. "And I should hope so," she adds, mock-stern and gleefully pleased.
Her smile sharpens then, turning playful and dangerous as she leans just a fraction closer, eyes glinting with mischief. "Now," Flora says lightly, already laughing as the thought strikes her, "important question." An intentional pause, perfectly timed. "Will there be karaoke at the wedding?"
The rumors are terrible and cruel
But honey, most of them are true
But honey, most of them are true
