you wouldn't be the first renegade to need somebody
Flora looks up into Kaisel’s certain face, into the copper-bright insistence of his stare as though maybe, if she holds still enough beneath it, some of what he believes might slip beneath her skin and make a home there. For a moment, she almost wants to let it. She wants to be simple enough for his hands on either side of her face to be the whole answer, wants the warmth of his palms and the fierce damp press of his kiss against her forehead to scrape the guilt clean off her bones like mud from the soles of her boots.
But even as her chin dips slightly in his grasp, making her cheeks squish faintly beneath the pressure of his palms in a way that would normally have her complaining immediately and loudly on principle, the tightness inside her doesn’t loosen. It only sinks lower, dragging roots through the softest parts of her until she’s tangled in it all over again.
When he pulls her into his arms, she goes, folding herself into the bright orange shelter of him and trying to take what he’s offering; the squeeze of his embrace, the slow side-to-side sway, the shape of safety made ridiculous by raincoats and dropped jellyfish umbrellas and the wet, enchanted dark pressing in around them. She tries to let his words settle, she really does. She presses her face against him and breathes in rainwater and festival smoke and Kaisel, letting the rhythm of him move her, letting herself be held as though that might keep everything inside her from spilling out onto the leaf-strewn ground.
"I know all of that," she says at last, the words muffled at first before she turns her face just enough that he can hear her, her voice small in a way she hates but can’t quite polish into something prettier. "But…" Her swallow is visible in the pale column of her throat, and when she draws back enough to look at him again, the blue of her eyes is still wet and too wide beneath the frizzed gold of her curls. "I don’t think it changes anything."
Her fingers curl into the front of his raincoat, clinging to the slick fabric as if it’s the only thing keeping her from being pulled backward into the moment she’s been avoiding for so long. "I’m still the reason he’s dead." She hadn’t held the knife, hadn’t given the order, wasn’t responsible for Jack’s actions, but, she was the reason for them.
But even as her chin dips slightly in his grasp, making her cheeks squish faintly beneath the pressure of his palms in a way that would normally have her complaining immediately and loudly on principle, the tightness inside her doesn’t loosen. It only sinks lower, dragging roots through the softest parts of her until she’s tangled in it all over again.
When he pulls her into his arms, she goes, folding herself into the bright orange shelter of him and trying to take what he’s offering; the squeeze of his embrace, the slow side-to-side sway, the shape of safety made ridiculous by raincoats and dropped jellyfish umbrellas and the wet, enchanted dark pressing in around them. She tries to let his words settle, she really does. She presses her face against him and breathes in rainwater and festival smoke and Kaisel, letting the rhythm of him move her, letting herself be held as though that might keep everything inside her from spilling out onto the leaf-strewn ground.
"I know all of that," she says at last, the words muffled at first before she turns her face just enough that he can hear her, her voice small in a way she hates but can’t quite polish into something prettier. "But…" Her swallow is visible in the pale column of her throat, and when she draws back enough to look at him again, the blue of her eyes is still wet and too wide beneath the frizzed gold of her curls. "I don’t think it changes anything."
Her fingers curl into the front of his raincoat, clinging to the slick fabric as if it’s the only thing keeping her from being pulled backward into the moment she’s been avoiding for so long. "I’m still the reason he’s dead." She hadn’t held the knife, hadn’t given the order, wasn’t responsible for Jack’s actions, but, she was the reason for them.
