flora
Flora tips her head with a soft, approving hum as her gaze flicks once more over the sweater before returning to his face. "That’s pretty close," she says, her lashes fluttering in an exaggerated little sweep to emphasize the colour.
At the mention of the letter, her lips pressed together as she lets out a small, theatrical huff. "Okay, I’m sorry," she says quickly, lifting one hand as if to physically intercept whatever mild judgment might be coming her way, though her eyes are already bright with apology rather than actual concern. "Things have been crazy here," she adds, the excuse tumbling out with the sort of earnestness that might almost pass for responsible if not for the way she immediately leans in, dropping her voice just enough to turn it into something conspiratorial instead of defensive. "My ex-boyfriend just randomly showed up in Torchline," she confides, brows lifting as if that alone should explain everything, which, to be fair, in her mind it absolutely does, "so I’ve been on high alert about it and completely lost track of time."
Catching the way he says moving, not moved, her grin returns as she reaches for a drink from a passing tray held aloft by a spirit, fingers closing easily around the glass before she turns back to him with a small tsk under her breath. "I literally live in a haunted house and you still chose haunted hills," she mutters, feigning annoyance, though the look she gives him is openly warm. "It’ll be really nice having you closer, though."
She lifts her glass a fraction, then adds, "Can I help with the move at all?"
At the mention of the letter, her lips pressed together as she lets out a small, theatrical huff. "Okay, I’m sorry," she says quickly, lifting one hand as if to physically intercept whatever mild judgment might be coming her way, though her eyes are already bright with apology rather than actual concern. "Things have been crazy here," she adds, the excuse tumbling out with the sort of earnestness that might almost pass for responsible if not for the way she immediately leans in, dropping her voice just enough to turn it into something conspiratorial instead of defensive. "My ex-boyfriend just randomly showed up in Torchline," she confides, brows lifting as if that alone should explain everything, which, to be fair, in her mind it absolutely does, "so I’ve been on high alert about it and completely lost track of time."
Catching the way he says moving, not moved, her grin returns as she reaches for a drink from a passing tray held aloft by a spirit, fingers closing easily around the glass before she turns back to him with a small tsk under her breath. "I literally live in a haunted house and you still chose haunted hills," she mutters, feigning annoyance, though the look she gives him is openly warm. "It’ll be really nice having you closer, though."
She lifts her glass a fraction, then adds, "Can I help with the move at all?"
Fever dream high in the quiet of the night
You know that I caught it
You know that I caught it
