flora
Flora feels it the moment Kaisel folds inward, the way his boldness turns sharp at the edges and then collapses like a tent pulled loose from its stakes, and it makes something instinctive surge up inside her, a need to fill every hollow before doubt can echo there. She shifts closer without thinking, palm coming up to cradle his cheek, thumb brushing the soft curve of his lower lip. "Babe," she murmurs, the word warm and steady, pressed into him rather than floated between them, her eyes holding his with an understanding that doesn’t rush or flinch. She knows that feeling too well, the wanting to plant your feet and say no more, only to realise the world doesn’t always let you choose the shape of your resistance. "I know. I hate it too." Her thumb drifts once more, grounding, affectionate. "But... I guess that just means more runs, huh? Maybe more protein powder shakes." The attempt at lightness isn’t dismissal so much as defiance, a refusal to let fear be the only thing that gets airtime between them, silly hats or no.
When he threatens Mort himself, the tension cracks, and she beams at him unabashedly, because of course he would aim that high, because of course his love is reckless enough to square up to death if it ever tried to take her. Her smile widens as he latches onto the idea of questing together, and when he leans in, she melts gladly, fitting herself into him with immediate ease, one hand still warm against his face, the other fisting lightly in his shirt as she tucks into every inch of space left between them, like the most natural shape either of them could make. The kiss lands deep and fulfilling, less spark than gravity, and when she pulls back her cheeks are flushed, breath a little uneven, joy humming just beneath her skin.
His whisper makes her blink once, then delight spills across her face so fast it’s impossible to contain, eyes lighting up as if he’s just offered her the moon in a pocket-sized box. She leans in close, conspiratorial, forehead nearly touching his. "Gods, you’re the most clever man alive," she breathes back, nodding emphatically. "Yes. Absolutely yes." The idea settles into her chest and blooms there, bright and perfect in its simplicity. "Maybe Remi could make us rings.." she adds, excitement threading her voice now. "He could take the hair bands from Safrin and shape them into rings for the ceremony. They already mean everything to us anyway, and they technically are the real thing." Her gaze drops to the sparkly copper band around her wrist, unable to help the way her smile grew every time she looked at it.
When he threatens Mort himself, the tension cracks, and she beams at him unabashedly, because of course he would aim that high, because of course his love is reckless enough to square up to death if it ever tried to take her. Her smile widens as he latches onto the idea of questing together, and when he leans in, she melts gladly, fitting herself into him with immediate ease, one hand still warm against his face, the other fisting lightly in his shirt as she tucks into every inch of space left between them, like the most natural shape either of them could make. The kiss lands deep and fulfilling, less spark than gravity, and when she pulls back her cheeks are flushed, breath a little uneven, joy humming just beneath her skin.
His whisper makes her blink once, then delight spills across her face so fast it’s impossible to contain, eyes lighting up as if he’s just offered her the moon in a pocket-sized box. She leans in close, conspiratorial, forehead nearly touching his. "Gods, you’re the most clever man alive," she breathes back, nodding emphatically. "Yes. Absolutely yes." The idea settles into her chest and blooms there, bright and perfect in its simplicity. "Maybe Remi could make us rings.." she adds, excitement threading her voice now. "He could take the hair bands from Safrin and shape them into rings for the ceremony. They already mean everything to us anyway, and they technically are the real thing." Her gaze drops to the sparkly copper band around her wrist, unable to help the way her smile grew every time she looked at it.
you don't know that you're living til' you're carrying scars
you're either falling in love or falling apart
you're either falling in love or falling apart
