with each love i cut loose i was never the same
Flora nods sagely, as if nursery visions are a serious and sacred category of strategic planning. "Totallllly," she says, drawing the word out with immediate understanding, because gendered colour rules may be boring and fake, but aesthetic impulses are not, and if Soh already has some sweet little dream taking shape in her head, then Flora is absolutely prepared to defend it against anyone dreary enough to start lecturing about practicality.
When Soh mentions Safrin saying she’ll be a good mother, Flora’s brows shoot up at once, her grin brightening with such effortless certainty that it makes the idea of doubt seem almost absurd. "Of course you’re going to be?" she says, the question mark landing only because the answer feels too obvious to need proving, and then she laughs, soft and fond rather than dismissive. "Babe, there’s literally no one I can think of who is better for it than you."
Her smile gentles as Soh sinks back into the couch, the excitement between them making room for something quieter without losing its warmth. Flora shifts a little closer, her gold-ringed fingers resting lightly near Soh’s as she considers the shape of what her friend has admitted. "Obviously there’s probably going to be a crazy learning curve," she says, wrinkling her nose in sympathy, because pretending otherwise feels insulting when babies are tiny, loud, mysterious creatures who somehow require both impossible delicacy and an alarming amount of laundry. "But, like...the fact that you’re a good person and you’ll love the baby and do what’s best for it, that’s kind of the most important thing. Everything else you can learn."
With a little shrug, her grin flickers back into place, brighter now and threaded with mischief as she tips her head toward Soh. "You could always borrow my baby brothers if you want to practice," Flora adds, as if Remi and Ronin’s newborns are library books.
When Soh mentions Safrin saying she’ll be a good mother, Flora’s brows shoot up at once, her grin brightening with such effortless certainty that it makes the idea of doubt seem almost absurd. "Of course you’re going to be?" she says, the question mark landing only because the answer feels too obvious to need proving, and then she laughs, soft and fond rather than dismissive. "Babe, there’s literally no one I can think of who is better for it than you."
Her smile gentles as Soh sinks back into the couch, the excitement between them making room for something quieter without losing its warmth. Flora shifts a little closer, her gold-ringed fingers resting lightly near Soh’s as she considers the shape of what her friend has admitted. "Obviously there’s probably going to be a crazy learning curve," she says, wrinkling her nose in sympathy, because pretending otherwise feels insulting when babies are tiny, loud, mysterious creatures who somehow require both impossible delicacy and an alarming amount of laundry. "But, like...the fact that you’re a good person and you’ll love the baby and do what’s best for it, that’s kind of the most important thing. Everything else you can learn."
With a little shrug, her grin flickers back into place, brighter now and threaded with mischief as she tips her head toward Soh. "You could always borrow my baby brothers if you want to practice," Flora adds, as if Remi and Ronin’s newborns are library books.
