Let me paint a picture for you, I'm feeling like Bob Ross
For a second, he doesn’t understand what’s happening. There's a sensation that rolls through him, trickling down like a phantom egg cracked over his head, seeping in, somehow. It's a strong enough feeling that he reaches up to touch the top of his head, the new bracelet flashing in the light with the motion. He feels only the drop flop of his hair.
It is nothing unpleasant. In fact, quite the opposite, it buzzes across every thought and perception with a low, humming happiness that rises and pops only to rebuild and repeat in a storm of merry bubbles on loop. It's an undeniable presence that settles into him with such familiarity it's as if it’s always belonged there, bright and overwhelming in a way that steals the breath straight out of his chest.
His expression shifts, the amusement of beholding her crow-qualities drawn back as swift and sure as the tide, leaving just the shore of confusion, at first. It settles, sharp and immediate, his brows pulling together as his focus snaps inward, and because he's never tried to hold anything back from her, it'll trickle out to her ring with all the uneven sway of a boat barreling through a storm. His fingers stretch quite on their own at his side, unknowingly trying to grasp onto understanding as if it could be pulled straight from the air.
Then, it hits him properly. Not all at once, but with every pop of her champagne fizzing bubbles. The lightness of it. The warmth. The way it tumbles and splashes along every portion of him with a quality not unlike mint singing to the nerves and yet it doesn't prickle with anything akin to that cold. "…What—" it comes out quieter than expected, not alarmed, just trying to get his footing in something that won’t hold still long enough for it. Then—I love you, Kaisel.
That lands clean. It cuts through everything else, neatly lancing aside every other thought and feeling with the low ring of it fading out like a perfectly plucked note in a quiet room. The startling effect of a thought he didn't think strikes him with such severity that he stills in a way nothing else has ever managed to do, except her on a few other occasions. "Always her", the thoughts swells and rises and lifts between them, utterly fond in a way he doesn't even mean but just is all the same.
Once he overcomes the shock, not unlike a dog frightened by its own fart, Kaisel's attention shifts from inward back out, to her. His hand comes up without thinking, catching her wrist lightly where it rests against his face. Not to move it, but to keep it there, grounding himself in something real while everything else settles around it. "Flora?" he breathes, the word dragged out of him like it’s been pulled from somewhere deeper than his lungs, or maybe it's just a bit more crowded inside him now that it requires a bit more effort to manage it. "Did you...are we...this is amazing!" His gaze doesn’t leave hers, focusing on her with an intensity that strikes and brightens behind a series of quick blinks as realization dawns steadily. He tries it out much more intentionally this time, still not entirely convinced he hasn't gone mad. "I love you, you incredible, amazing, gorgeous, wife of mine."
As if he has been held in suspension by some outside force that suddenly ceases, movement returns to him like a band snapping back into place. He steps into her abruptly, reaching past her arm to roughly take hold of her head and pull her into him, mouth sinking against hers. Heat crackles from the point of contact, pushed through the open door that swings between his heart and hers, allowing her to feel every feverish thing she does to him. He does not content himself with a mere kiss or closing distance, but continues to push into her, walking her back towards their bed without giving her room for breath. They don't need it anymore. "I'm going to worship every inch of you."
It is nothing unpleasant. In fact, quite the opposite, it buzzes across every thought and perception with a low, humming happiness that rises and pops only to rebuild and repeat in a storm of merry bubbles on loop. It's an undeniable presence that settles into him with such familiarity it's as if it’s always belonged there, bright and overwhelming in a way that steals the breath straight out of his chest.
His expression shifts, the amusement of beholding her crow-qualities drawn back as swift and sure as the tide, leaving just the shore of confusion, at first. It settles, sharp and immediate, his brows pulling together as his focus snaps inward, and because he's never tried to hold anything back from her, it'll trickle out to her ring with all the uneven sway of a boat barreling through a storm. His fingers stretch quite on their own at his side, unknowingly trying to grasp onto understanding as if it could be pulled straight from the air.
Then, it hits him properly. Not all at once, but with every pop of her champagne fizzing bubbles. The lightness of it. The warmth. The way it tumbles and splashes along every portion of him with a quality not unlike mint singing to the nerves and yet it doesn't prickle with anything akin to that cold. "…What—" it comes out quieter than expected, not alarmed, just trying to get his footing in something that won’t hold still long enough for it. Then—I love you, Kaisel.
That lands clean. It cuts through everything else, neatly lancing aside every other thought and feeling with the low ring of it fading out like a perfectly plucked note in a quiet room. The startling effect of a thought he didn't think strikes him with such severity that he stills in a way nothing else has ever managed to do, except her on a few other occasions. "Always her", the thoughts swells and rises and lifts between them, utterly fond in a way he doesn't even mean but just is all the same.
Once he overcomes the shock, not unlike a dog frightened by its own fart, Kaisel's attention shifts from inward back out, to her. His hand comes up without thinking, catching her wrist lightly where it rests against his face. Not to move it, but to keep it there, grounding himself in something real while everything else settles around it. "Flora?" he breathes, the word dragged out of him like it’s been pulled from somewhere deeper than his lungs, or maybe it's just a bit more crowded inside him now that it requires a bit more effort to manage it. "Did you...are we...this is amazing!" His gaze doesn’t leave hers, focusing on her with an intensity that strikes and brightens behind a series of quick blinks as realization dawns steadily. He tries it out much more intentionally this time, still not entirely convinced he hasn't gone mad. "I love you, you incredible, amazing, gorgeous, wife of mine."
As if he has been held in suspension by some outside force that suddenly ceases, movement returns to him like a band snapping back into place. He steps into her abruptly, reaching past her arm to roughly take hold of her head and pull her into him, mouth sinking against hers. Heat crackles from the point of contact, pushed through the open door that swings between his heart and hers, allowing her to feel every feverish thing she does to him. He does not content himself with a mere kiss or closing distance, but continues to push into her, walking her back towards their bed without giving her room for breath. They don't need it anymore. "I'm going to worship every inch of you."
Kaisel
They don't gotta ask 'cause they know I'm him
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
