marked me like a bloodstain
She listens without interrupting, even when the words twist sharp and self-accusing in his mouth, even when they land heavy enough that she feels the instinct to shake him just a little and tell him to stop carving himself up with ghosts. Flora exhales, glancing out over the water for a moment as if measuring her response against the tide before looking back at him with a small, tight wince that doesn’t pretend prettiness. She gives one shoulder a faint shrug. "Maybe you did," she says, not cruel, not softening it either. Her brows lift almost immediately, though, cutting off the space where that thought might fester. "But that doesn’t mean it’s permanent."
She turns fully toward him now, sand warm beneath her feet, curls shifting against her neck as the breeze teases loose strands free. "My mother drugged and kidnapped me," she says plainly, as though discussing weather. "My fathers either left or couldn’t stand the sight of me for a while. I grew up thinking I was the wrong piece in someone else’s story." Her mouth tilts, not bitter, just factual. "And I still managed to get past it. So did they." Her aqua gaze sharpens, not unkindly. "You don’t get to decide she’s already written you off. That’s her choice, not yours, but if you stay away from her, then you're making it for her." The words are firm, but there’s no accusation in them, just a refusal to let him drown in a narrative he’s built without his daughter's consent.
When he asks about Remi, something brighter flickers back into her expression, a grin blooming with familiar, mischievous confidence. "It’s basically his demigod duty." She waves a hand as if this settles the matter entirely. "Yes. He’ll help."
Her nose wrinkles faintly as she considers the timing, though. "We’re going into Leafchange, and that’s usually when Ronin gets a bit..." She gestures vaguely, searching for the diplomatic word and failing. "Protective. Which is a very polite way of saying rude to anyone who breathes too close to Remi. And they’re expecting twins soon, so things are gonna be a bit chaotic for them." She reaches up with her free hand and squeezes Liam’s shoulder again, this time more deliberately, her grip warm and steady. "But he’ll make time," she says, and there’s no hesitation in it. No maybe. No probably. "And if he tries not to, I’ll make him."
She turns fully toward him now, sand warm beneath her feet, curls shifting against her neck as the breeze teases loose strands free. "My mother drugged and kidnapped me," she says plainly, as though discussing weather. "My fathers either left or couldn’t stand the sight of me for a while. I grew up thinking I was the wrong piece in someone else’s story." Her mouth tilts, not bitter, just factual. "And I still managed to get past it. So did they." Her aqua gaze sharpens, not unkindly. "You don’t get to decide she’s already written you off. That’s her choice, not yours, but if you stay away from her, then you're making it for her." The words are firm, but there’s no accusation in them, just a refusal to let him drown in a narrative he’s built without his daughter's consent.
When he asks about Remi, something brighter flickers back into her expression, a grin blooming with familiar, mischievous confidence. "It’s basically his demigod duty." She waves a hand as if this settles the matter entirely. "Yes. He’ll help."
Her nose wrinkles faintly as she considers the timing, though. "We’re going into Leafchange, and that’s usually when Ronin gets a bit..." She gestures vaguely, searching for the diplomatic word and failing. "Protective. Which is a very polite way of saying rude to anyone who breathes too close to Remi. And they’re expecting twins soon, so things are gonna be a bit chaotic for them." She reaches up with her free hand and squeezes Liam’s shoulder again, this time more deliberately, her grip warm and steady. "But he’ll make time," she says, and there’s no hesitation in it. No maybe. No probably. "And if he tries not to, I’ll make him."
