get my car door, isn't that sweet? then pull me to the backseat
Flora rolls her eyes. "Well, hot things do tend to steam," she points out, lifting her brows as if this should settle the matter entirely. As Kaisel begins to spiral delightedly into theories about weaknesses, lobsters, tyrants, and whether pinching has finally cracked open some delicate hidden vulnerability of hers, Flora gives him another look, this one dripping with feigned intolerance. "No," she says firmly, narrowing her eyes at him, "none of that. It’s just tickling doesn’t leave bruises the way pinching does." Still, even through the theatrical annoyance, the way he says Flora Grace Háksop sends something fresh and softly golden threading through the bond, delicate as sunlight through champagne, because hearing their secret last name tucked so easily into his mouth makes the whole private shape of them feel even warmer, even more theirs.
She hums a yes under her breath about the slides, distracted now by the camera in her hands, such that when Kaisel jumps to yank his pants fully into place, the click comes swift and merciless, Flora lowering the camera from her face with a wicked little smirk already blooming there. "So hot, babe," she says, snickering as she glances at the captured image, absolutely delighted to have immortalized him mid-hop with his pants half-settled and his hair still decorated in paint like an avant-garde handyman. "No notes."
Still grinning, she hands him the camera before stepping back into the room, rolling her shoulders before angling herself toward him, one hand lifting into her curls while the other settles at her waist, gold jewellery catching the light as she aims a sultry smoulder into the lens, chin dipped just enough, aqua eyes bright and dangerous, looking every inch the Hot Take, the Queen of Torchline, Safrin’s brand-new demigod, and wife to Kaisel Háksop.
She hums a yes under her breath about the slides, distracted now by the camera in her hands, such that when Kaisel jumps to yank his pants fully into place, the click comes swift and merciless, Flora lowering the camera from her face with a wicked little smirk already blooming there. "So hot, babe," she says, snickering as she glances at the captured image, absolutely delighted to have immortalized him mid-hop with his pants half-settled and his hair still decorated in paint like an avant-garde handyman. "No notes."
Still grinning, she hands him the camera before stepping back into the room, rolling her shoulders before angling herself toward him, one hand lifting into her curls while the other settles at her waist, gold jewellery catching the light as she aims a sultry smoulder into the lens, chin dipped just enough, aqua eyes bright and dangerous, looking every inch the Hot Take, the Queen of Torchline, Safrin’s brand-new demigod, and wife to Kaisel Háksop.
no one's ever had me, not like you
