flora
Flora stills a little when Melita says the name; Clementine. For a moment the sunlight feels sharper against her skin, the surface of the pool too bright, too loud in the way it slaps gently against the tumsea’s sides. Twin. The word sits between them with a weight Flora recognizes immediately, the shape of it familiar in her bones the way certain aches are when the weather shifts. The Doubletake doesn't ask questions, doesn't suggest impossible remedies or hopeful pilgrimages to Mort or clever solutions that Melita has almost certainly already clawed through herself in darker hours. Flora knows exactly how that path goes, how every door gets tested until the hinges come off and every god gets considered whether you believe in them or not. She knows the guilt of surviving. Knows the strange silence left behind when half of you is gone.
So she only nods once, slow and sincere. "That really sucks," she says quietly. It's not elegant, it's not comforting in any grand way, but at least it is honest, and Flora lets it sit there without trying to polish it into something prettier than the truth.
A breath later the current shifts again, conversation drifting mercifully toward lighter waters, and Flora shrugs, shoulders lifting above the tumsea as it rocks beneath her before groaning immediately at the mention of Kai's obsession with merch, throwing one hand up in theatrical despair as her head tips back against the float. "Oh my gods, don't even get me started." She lifts her head again, squinting toward Melita over the rim of her sunglasses with exaggerated accusation. "You encourage him even a little and I swear to Safrin the next thing you know he's going to have more than just your face on his underwear." The horror in her voice is entirely performative, but the grin tugging at her mouth betrays how fond she actually is of the chaos.
So she only nods once, slow and sincere. "That really sucks," she says quietly. It's not elegant, it's not comforting in any grand way, but at least it is honest, and Flora lets it sit there without trying to polish it into something prettier than the truth.
A breath later the current shifts again, conversation drifting mercifully toward lighter waters, and Flora shrugs, shoulders lifting above the tumsea as it rocks beneath her before groaning immediately at the mention of Kai's obsession with merch, throwing one hand up in theatrical despair as her head tips back against the float. "Oh my gods, don't even get me started." She lifts her head again, squinting toward Melita over the rim of her sunglasses with exaggerated accusation. "You encourage him even a little and I swear to Safrin the next thing you know he's going to have more than just your face on his underwear." The horror in her voice is entirely performative, but the grin tugging at her mouth betrays how fond she actually is of the chaos.
I want to be when you fall on me like night
I wanna kill the lights
I wanna kill the lights
