Flora
there's no time to waste on loving badly
Hotaru barely has time to lean in before Flora is already folding around her, arms winding up around her mother’s neck with the kind of immediate, unembarrassed affection that belongs to birthdays and champagne bubbles and the rare, shimmering little moments when life actually bothers to feel generous, and she lets out a soft, indulgent hum into the crook of her neck as though she might happily stay there for the next hour if the rest of the party weren’t glittering and clamouring all around them. "I love you, and I’m so glad that you’re here," she says, warm and low and entirely sincere, though sincerity in Flora never sits still for long before it starts putting on jewellery and batting its lashes, and by the time she’s drawing back she’s already catching the kiss Enzo sends sailing toward her from across the room. Her grin flashes brighter for it, all twin-threaded delight and menace in equal proportion, and she blows one right back before calling, "Don’t think you’re getting out of this unscathed!" with a wink sharp enough to count as a threat, or a promise, or both depending on how brave he’s feeling tonight, because yes it was his birthday as well.Sohalia is next, and Flora doesn’t so much hug her as gather her in with both arms and hold on properly, tightly, her sequins catching candlelight while her bracelets press cool and familiar against bare skin. "Thank you so much for helping with all of this," she murmurs as she pulls back just enough to look at her, aqua eyes bright and sparkling in a way that has less to do with the party lights than with the fact that Soh is here, here after everything and despite everything and still close enough to touch. Her smile softens into something affectionate and fond and just crooked enough to still be Flora instead of some polished, sentimental impostor, and she adds, "I love you most," like it’s a joke and a truth and a tiny territorial flag planted between them all at once.
And then, because apparently the universe has decided to start arranging people in little clusters specifically to tempt her into meddling, her attention snags on Colt and Mateo standing together with drinks in hand, and the sight lands in her head like a match to dry brush. It isn’t even that Mateo can’t make his own choices, because he can and will and probably with some theatrical flourish she’d deeply respect under different circumstances, but the thought of Colt drifting through her life with that easy, careless habit of setting hooks into the people around her, all wide eyes and open roads and not meaning any harm while managing it anyway, presses against something sharp-edged inside Flora that has no intention whatsoever of behaving itself. So she goes, not in a rush and not in a huff but with that smooth, loose-hipped stride of someone who knows the house will part for her because it’s hers and because tonight, more than ever, everything in it has been bent toward her orbit, and when she reaches them she slides an arm around Mateo’s waist as naturally as if she’s merely wandered over for a sip of gossip and not because she’s decided, on a deeply spiritual level, to become a problem.
"Oooh, what are we talking about?" she interrupts, bright as sugared fruit and every bit as sticky, leaning lightly into her brother before tipping her face up toward him with exaggerated curiosity. "Is Colt trying to poach you to come live up in the desert with her?" The question is aimed at Mateo, but by the time the last word leaves her mouth she’s already turning her gaze onto Colt, sweet enough to rot teeth and so obviously manufactured it may as well come with ribbons tied round it. "She’s been doing that, you know," Flora says, all innocence lacquered over intention. "Trying to poach the people closest to me." Then she tilts her head to the side, slow and expectant and just challenging enough to make the whole thing gleam like a blade tucked into a bouquet, her smile never slipping once.
Flora is standing with Colt/Mateo
Code stolen from Queen Sky
