get my car door, isn't that sweet? then pull me to the backseat
As Kaisel nudges her hard enough to upset the careful little nest they’ve made of themselves on the stairs, Flora has to release him just enough to catch herself against the step, one palm landing with a soft slap while she twists to shoot him a look full of playful challenge. It lasts all of half a second before laughter slips through, bright and helpless, because of course he’s right in the most annoying possible way, and of course being right doesn’t mean she’s going to let him have the point cleanly. "I’m the hot take now, actually," she says, lifting her chin, aqua eyes narrowing with exaggerated authority before her shoulder bumps back against his. "And my hot take is I'm allowed to think I totally fumbled telling you I love you properly that first time." Her smile flickers softer around the edges, only for a second, warmth threading through the bond like sunlight across shallow water, and then she lets the rest of the thought go because he’s already hauling them both away from the soft little teeth of memory before it can bite down too hard.
When he pops up and drags her after him, Flora gives a surprised little squeal, surrendering her hand to his with her ring flashing between them, her smile crooked and heavy with affection in a way that makes the whole stairway seem too small for the two of them and their absurd, impossible, still-new joy. She snickers under her breath, rolling her eyes as if she hasn’t spent the last few minutes tenderly recreating their emotional history in cinematic detail. "Babe, we are dumb enough to do that," she points out, because accuracy matters even in moments of personal growth, but she doesn’t resist him, not even a little.
Instead she tosses her arms around his neck, leaning into the pull of him with a wild grin as the frozen memory fades away around them, moonlight and salt and lilac dissolving back into Wildering House and the spirits who are pretending not to eavesdrop. "Fine," Flora says, her voice brightening again as she tilts her face toward his, demigodhood and love and celebration all fizzing together beneath her skin until she feels almost dizzy with it. "Take me upstairs, because I need to change." Her eyes drag deliberately downward then, taking in the very relevant fact that he still isn’t wearing pants, and her grin turns wickedly delighted. "And far be it for me to be the one to suggest putting more clothes on, but I don’t want to hear you complaining about the sand outside."
When he pops up and drags her after him, Flora gives a surprised little squeal, surrendering her hand to his with her ring flashing between them, her smile crooked and heavy with affection in a way that makes the whole stairway seem too small for the two of them and their absurd, impossible, still-new joy. She snickers under her breath, rolling her eyes as if she hasn’t spent the last few minutes tenderly recreating their emotional history in cinematic detail. "Babe, we are dumb enough to do that," she points out, because accuracy matters even in moments of personal growth, but she doesn’t resist him, not even a little.
Instead she tosses her arms around his neck, leaning into the pull of him with a wild grin as the frozen memory fades away around them, moonlight and salt and lilac dissolving back into Wildering House and the spirits who are pretending not to eavesdrop. "Fine," Flora says, her voice brightening again as she tilts her face toward his, demigodhood and love and celebration all fizzing together beneath her skin until she feels almost dizzy with it. "Take me upstairs, because I need to change." Her eyes drag deliberately downward then, taking in the very relevant fact that he still isn’t wearing pants, and her grin turns wickedly delighted. "And far be it for me to be the one to suggest putting more clothes on, but I don’t want to hear you complaining about the sand outside."
no one's ever had me, not like you
