Whether I'm gonna curse you out or
Take you back to my house
Take you back to my house
Flora’s expression doesn’t smooth out so much as it shifts, incredulity lingering in the crinkle of her nose before it gives way to something more openly displeased, a quiet, unhappy sound slipping from her at the back of her throat as she processes what he’s said. "That’s...really shitty," she murmurs, softer now, her brows knitting faintly as she looks up at him, something protective flickering there before she can quite stop it. She hadn’t realised he and Colt had been close enough for that kind of damage, hadn’t known Colt had gotten near enough to find the soft places in him and press, and the thought lands heavier than she expects, settling somewhere low and stubborn in her chest. "Well," she adds after a breath, "I’m glad you aren’t letting it beat you up anymore."
His next words hit differently, though, slipping past the surface of the conversation and landing somewhere far deeper than she’s prepared for, and for a second it’s like the ground under her shifts just slightly, enough that she has to steady herself without quite knowing why. She hadn’t said it out loud before—not properly, not like this—but the fear had been there all the same, quiet and persistent in the background: that he’d only ever stayed because of Hotaru, because of the parent he'd almost been, and now that that’s gone, he might drift with it, leave her behind as something incidental rather than chosen.
Instead, he stays, and the realisation pulls something tight in Flora's chest, sharp and sudden enough that her breath catches, her arms tightening around him before she even consciously decides to move, pressing in closer as if proximity might anchor the moment in place. She tucks her face against his chest, curls brushing against his shirt, her grip firm around him. "I’ve thought of you as family for so long," she says quietly, the words muffled slightly but no less certain for it, her voice threading something more vulnerable through the usual brightness she wears so easily. "And I was worried that with everything that you..." She falters there, the thought unfinished but understood, her arms tightening around him instead of trying to force it into something neater than it feels. "I don’t want things to change between us."
His next words hit differently, though, slipping past the surface of the conversation and landing somewhere far deeper than she’s prepared for, and for a second it’s like the ground under her shifts just slightly, enough that she has to steady herself without quite knowing why. She hadn’t said it out loud before—not properly, not like this—but the fear had been there all the same, quiet and persistent in the background: that he’d only ever stayed because of Hotaru, because of the parent he'd almost been, and now that that’s gone, he might drift with it, leave her behind as something incidental rather than chosen.
Instead, he stays, and the realisation pulls something tight in Flora's chest, sharp and sudden enough that her breath catches, her arms tightening around him before she even consciously decides to move, pressing in closer as if proximity might anchor the moment in place. She tucks her face against his chest, curls brushing against his shirt, her grip firm around him. "I’ve thought of you as family for so long," she says quietly, the words muffled slightly but no less certain for it, her voice threading something more vulnerable through the usual brightness she wears so easily. "And I was worried that with everything that you..." She falters there, the thought unfinished but understood, her arms tightening around him instead of trying to force it into something neater than it feels. "I don’t want things to change between us."
flora
I haven't decided yet
But I'm gonna get you back
But I'm gonna get you back
