yeah I got heartbreak that I reminisce about
Flora’s grin spreads wide and unashamed at Soh’s confession, bright enough to soften the awkwardness of the moment before it has time to root too deeply. "There is absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about," she says firmly, shaking her head as if batting the idea away entirely. Then she rolls her eyes at herself, the gesture exaggerated and fond. "And as someone who does plenty of embarrassing things, I feel uniquely qualified to say that."
Her smile lingers while Soh begins gathering the ships, though it fades gradually into something quieter as she watches the careful way her friend handles them. One by one they disappear into the bag, not shattered, not discarded with the violence Flora half-expected, but lowered gently as though they were small bones or fragile relics of something sacred. It makes the back of Flora’s eyes sting and the ache that rises feels disloyal somehow, like a betrayal of the life she has built with Kaisel, a life that is steady and warm and real in ways this room never had time to become. And yet beneath the guilt there is also relief, the strange loosening that comes with finally allowing grief a shape instead of pretending it never existed.
Maybe it isn’t even Jack she mourns, maybe it's the girl who tried so hard to love him well. The girl who poured every bright, reckless piece of herself into something that never quite held. The girl who now exists only as a story told badly by the first man she ever loved, who could no longer stand the sight of her.
Flora turns away before the last ships disappear, crossing the room and pretending sudden interest in a folded shirt from the chest. Her fingers fuss with the fabric as though the task requires careful attention, though she is not really seeing it. It's only the shift in Soh’s voice that makes her look up again, the words landing in the room like something fragile dropped on stone. Her hands still, and then she drops the shirt without thinking and crosses the space between them in two quiet steps, sliding an arm around Sohalia’s waist and leaning her head gently against her friend’s shoulder. "I'm so sorry," she murmurs softly.
Her hand squeezes once at Soh’s side, a small grounding pressure before she nudges her friend lightly with her shoulder. "No," she says gently, voice low and certain. "That isn’t how love is supposed to feel." Her gaze flicks toward the bag of ships before settling back on Soh again, the understanding in her expression deep and steady. "But that doesn’t make it any easier when it ends."
Her smile lingers while Soh begins gathering the ships, though it fades gradually into something quieter as she watches the careful way her friend handles them. One by one they disappear into the bag, not shattered, not discarded with the violence Flora half-expected, but lowered gently as though they were small bones or fragile relics of something sacred. It makes the back of Flora’s eyes sting and the ache that rises feels disloyal somehow, like a betrayal of the life she has built with Kaisel, a life that is steady and warm and real in ways this room never had time to become. And yet beneath the guilt there is also relief, the strange loosening that comes with finally allowing grief a shape instead of pretending it never existed.
Maybe it isn’t even Jack she mourns, maybe it's the girl who tried so hard to love him well. The girl who poured every bright, reckless piece of herself into something that never quite held. The girl who now exists only as a story told badly by the first man she ever loved, who could no longer stand the sight of her.
Flora turns away before the last ships disappear, crossing the room and pretending sudden interest in a folded shirt from the chest. Her fingers fuss with the fabric as though the task requires careful attention, though she is not really seeing it. It's only the shift in Soh’s voice that makes her look up again, the words landing in the room like something fragile dropped on stone. Her hands still, and then she drops the shirt without thinking and crosses the space between them in two quiet steps, sliding an arm around Sohalia’s waist and leaning her head gently against her friend’s shoulder. "I'm so sorry," she murmurs softly.
Her hand squeezes once at Soh’s side, a small grounding pressure before she nudges her friend lightly with her shoulder. "No," she says gently, voice low and certain. "That isn’t how love is supposed to feel." Her gaze flicks toward the bag of ships before settling back on Soh again, the understanding in her expression deep and steady. "But that doesn’t make it any easier when it ends."
real big things I still gotta figure out
