is this the end of all the endings?
Nothing in the room shifts against Kaisel, no startled breath or sleep-heavy protest, only the soft sigh Flora lets out as she settles more deeply into the mattress, her body accepting his careful intrusion as though it had been waiting for it all along. Even in sleep she yields just enough to make space, her arm pliant when he gathers it, her weight easing back into him until the space between them disappears and she fits, seamlessly, into the curve of his hold.
The house does not betray him either; no mischievous creak of floorboard or sudden slam of door interrupts the fragile quiet, as if the spirits themselves have decided, for once, to behave.
Flora remains under, steadfast and undisturbed, her breathing slow and even as the last hours of night slip quietly past, the darkness thinning at the edges until dawn begins to press pale gold through the wide windows. It’s that light that finds her first, brushing across her face, catching in the loose spill of her curls and warming her skin until sleep loosens its hold just enough for awareness to begin its slow return. It isn’t the light that wakes her, though.
It’s the weight, solid, familiar, wrapped around her in a way that sends recognition through her before her eyes have even opened, something instinctive and certain that has her shifting slightly, pressing back before she’s fully conscious of doing it. The feeling slots into place in her mind all at once, and whatever remnants of sleep cling to her dissolve immediately, replaced by something bright and fizzing that spreads through her chest too quickly to contain.
She twists in Kaisel's arms without hesitation, turning into him where he’s tucked her in close, one hand lifting to his cheek. Rising just enough, she brushes her lips against his, soft and insistent, a quiet attempt to coax him awake rather than let him linger as he'd graciously done for her.
"Hey," she murmurs, her voice still threaded with sleep, though there’s nothing drowsy about the way she draws closer, her leg sliding over his hip to pull them together until there’s no space left at all between them. Her nose nudges against his, affectionate and familiar, her breath warm against his mouth as the relief of him being here—actually here—bubbles up too quickly to hide, spilling through the soft curve of her smile as she adds, just as quietly, "I missed you."
The house does not betray him either; no mischievous creak of floorboard or sudden slam of door interrupts the fragile quiet, as if the spirits themselves have decided, for once, to behave.
Flora remains under, steadfast and undisturbed, her breathing slow and even as the last hours of night slip quietly past, the darkness thinning at the edges until dawn begins to press pale gold through the wide windows. It’s that light that finds her first, brushing across her face, catching in the loose spill of her curls and warming her skin until sleep loosens its hold just enough for awareness to begin its slow return. It isn’t the light that wakes her, though.
It’s the weight, solid, familiar, wrapped around her in a way that sends recognition through her before her eyes have even opened, something instinctive and certain that has her shifting slightly, pressing back before she’s fully conscious of doing it. The feeling slots into place in her mind all at once, and whatever remnants of sleep cling to her dissolve immediately, replaced by something bright and fizzing that spreads through her chest too quickly to contain.
She twists in Kaisel's arms without hesitation, turning into him where he’s tucked her in close, one hand lifting to his cheek. Rising just enough, she brushes her lips against his, soft and insistent, a quiet attempt to coax him awake rather than let him linger as he'd graciously done for her.
"Hey," she murmurs, her voice still threaded with sleep, though there’s nothing drowsy about the way she draws closer, her leg sliding over his hip to pull them together until there’s no space left at all between them. Her nose nudges against his, affectionate and familiar, her breath warm against his mouth as the relief of him being here—actually here—bubbles up too quickly to hide, spilling through the soft curve of her smile as she adds, just as quietly, "I missed you."
my broken bones are mending
