flora
Flora blinks at her, genuinely caught off guard, the tumsea drifting a half-turn beneath her as she studies Melita over the rim of her sunglasses. "I didn't know you had a sister," she says, the surprise unpolished and immediate, before something clicks belatedly into place and she tilts her head slightly. "Did she not..?" The question trails off as she realises what she is asking, the easy brightness dimming just a fraction as she remembers that Melita was an Outlander, and that not all of them came through together. Some didn't come through at all. She lets the unfinished sentence dissolve rather than force it somewhere painful, lifting one shoulder in a quiet, understanding shrug that says she wouldn't pry if Mel didn't want to explain.
At the question about little ones, Flora tips her head back against the inflated crown of the tumsea and considers it, sunlight warming her throat. "Honestly?" she says, exhaling through a small, crooked smile. "I think they're only doing it because Isla got pregnant." Her mouth curves further at that, amused and faintly incredulous. "They brought it up to Mateo and I almost immediately after finding out about her." The timing had been suspicious at best, competitive at worst, and Flora can't help the soft snort that escapes her.
As for whether they have what they need, she beams properly then, the earlier unease smoothing into something conspiratorial and warm. "Oh, probably not," she says breezily. "But Mateo and I are absolutely going on a shopping spree." Her grin sharpens, delighted at the prospect.
At the question about little ones, Flora tips her head back against the inflated crown of the tumsea and considers it, sunlight warming her throat. "Honestly?" she says, exhaling through a small, crooked smile. "I think they're only doing it because Isla got pregnant." Her mouth curves further at that, amused and faintly incredulous. "They brought it up to Mateo and I almost immediately after finding out about her." The timing had been suspicious at best, competitive at worst, and Flora can't help the soft snort that escapes her.
As for whether they have what they need, she beams properly then, the earlier unease smoothing into something conspiratorial and warm. "Oh, probably not," she says breezily. "But Mateo and I are absolutely going on a shopping spree." Her grin sharpens, delighted at the prospect.
I want to be when you fall on me like night
I wanna kill the lights
I wanna kill the lights
