get my car door, isn't that sweet? then pull me to the backseat
Flora meets Kaisel on the stairs with a grin so wide it nearly splits the last few shreds of composure she has left, climbing higher until she’s one step above him and can throw her arms around his neck and beam down at him. "It kinda felt like..." She pauses, laughing as she searches for words that make any amount of sense, which is difficult when the thing she’s trying to describe apparently lives somewhere between divine kidnapping and being slingshotted through a straw. "Like if you could be shrunk down and then yanked through a hole as a string?" Wincing at herself, she shakes her head, curls bouncing loose around her face as her expression crumples briefly into yeah, okay, terrible explanation, but what do you want from me, this is literally brand new. "I didn’t see anything, though. There was maybe, like, one millisecond where I knew it was going to happen before it did." Her eyes widen suddenly, aqua bright with dawning horror beneath all the glittering excitement. "So that’s going to be super inconvenient."
Still, inconvenient or not, it’s impossible for her to stop smiling when he looks at her like that, all breathless wonder and adored disbelief, as if she’s something rare enough to make the world pause and stare. Flora’s fingers slide into his hair, combing through it affectionately as he nearly suffocates himself on questions, and it isn’t until her fingertips catch on drying paint that she actually notices the state of him. Her brows tug together in distracted confusion, gaze flicking from the streaks in his hair to the smudge on his forehead and then briefly lower toward the shirt he’s buttoned wrong, because apparently while she was being divinely remade, he was either renovating something or losing a fight with an arts-and-crafts cabinet.
"What is—?" she starts softly, frowning as she tries to pick a bit of paint free without pulling too hard, though the question is immediately swallowed by the much larger, much shinier subject at hand. As he asks about powers, Flora bites at her lower lip, the smile fighting its way through anyway until she’s beaming down at him, her fingers still tangled in his hair like she’s afraid the whole moment might fly apart if she stops touching him. "I can definitely feel one ability for sure," she says, nodding quickly, the words spilling out bright and breathless as another surge of gold-bright excitement flares through the bond. "Maybe two."
Still, inconvenient or not, it’s impossible for her to stop smiling when he looks at her like that, all breathless wonder and adored disbelief, as if she’s something rare enough to make the world pause and stare. Flora’s fingers slide into his hair, combing through it affectionately as he nearly suffocates himself on questions, and it isn’t until her fingertips catch on drying paint that she actually notices the state of him. Her brows tug together in distracted confusion, gaze flicking from the streaks in his hair to the smudge on his forehead and then briefly lower toward the shirt he’s buttoned wrong, because apparently while she was being divinely remade, he was either renovating something or losing a fight with an arts-and-crafts cabinet.
"What is—?" she starts softly, frowning as she tries to pick a bit of paint free without pulling too hard, though the question is immediately swallowed by the much larger, much shinier subject at hand. As he asks about powers, Flora bites at her lower lip, the smile fighting its way through anyway until she’s beaming down at him, her fingers still tangled in his hair like she’s afraid the whole moment might fly apart if she stops touching him. "I can definitely feel one ability for sure," she says, nodding quickly, the words spilling out bright and breathless as another surge of gold-bright excitement flares through the bond. "Maybe two."
no one's ever had me, not like you
