with each love i cut loose i was never the same
The reaction lands exactly the way she’d wanted it to, sharp and immediate and just a little bit disastrous, and Flora’s laughter spills out of her before she can even think to contain it, bright and delighted as the coffee sloshes and Niki's book snaps shut, as if the entire moment has been staged purely for her amusement and he’s played his part perfectly. She tips her head, curls shifting against her shoulders, one eye still squinted behind the lenses as she looks down at him with exaggerated innocence that doesn’t fool anyone, least of all herself, her mouth curving as she lets the laughter taper into something softer but no less pleased. "Sneaking around?" she echoes, the words lilting upward with disbelief as though he’s said something genuinely ridiculous, her gaze flicking briefly to the mess he’s made before settling back on him, entirely unapologetic. "I don’t sneak. You just need to get your ears checked."
The compliment hits and she reacts like it’s been lobbed at her from across a crowded room, immediate and unfiltered, her expression lighting up in a way that feels almost theatrical in its sincerity as both hands come up to frame her face, fingertips pressing lightly to her cheeks while she angles herself just enough to present the glasses properly, lashes fluttering in an exaggerated display that leans into the bit without losing the thread of something warmer underneath. "Do you really think so?" she asks, dragging the moment out with a soft sort of delight.
Flora doesn’t ask for permission before dropping onto a piece of Niki's chair, one leg hooking casually over the other as she settles in. "It’s nice having you still in the house," she adds, the words slipping out with an easy affection as she beams endearingly at the necromancer.
The compliment hits and she reacts like it’s been lobbed at her from across a crowded room, immediate and unfiltered, her expression lighting up in a way that feels almost theatrical in its sincerity as both hands come up to frame her face, fingertips pressing lightly to her cheeks while she angles herself just enough to present the glasses properly, lashes fluttering in an exaggerated display that leans into the bit without losing the thread of something warmer underneath. "Do you really think so?" she asks, dragging the moment out with a soft sort of delight.
Flora doesn’t ask for permission before dropping onto a piece of Niki's chair, one leg hooking casually over the other as she settles in. "It’s nice having you still in the house," she adds, the words slipping out with an easy affection as she beams endearingly at the necromancer.
