I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings
For all that Kaisel is clearly offended, Flora’s first response to him yanking his shirt over his head is not fear so much as an immediate and deeply appreciative pause. Her teeth catch against her lower lip as her eyes drag, slow and shameless, down the revealed lines of his chest and the warm, hard cut of his abdomen, and through the bond her amusement brightens into something pleasantly scarlet. "I just thought you could use some cooling off," she purrs, her lashes lifting as her smile turns wicked. "Since you’re so hot—" The last word barely makes it out before it breaks into a squeak, because then he is lunging for her and Flora is twisting away with a burst of laughter that makes the whole attempt at escape feel more decorative than sincere.
Her bare feet skid over the last of Spice’s frost as his hands catch her, and though she flails with all the dramatic urgency of a woman being wronged in her own home, she does very little that might actually stop him from hauling her up and over his shoulder. "Kai!" she protests, one hand braced against his back while the other reaches uselessly toward the counter, her laughter making a mess of any real authority. "Assborn, this is unacceptable! I am your queen and your wife and the creative director of this entire Deepfrost experience—" Somewhere in the struggle, her pom-pom hat slips free, tumbling onto the wet tile.
Spice, predictably, takes the abduction as a personal invitation to escalate. With a sharp little trill she launches from the counter and flies ahead of them toward the pool, circling back to send pale, halfhearted streams of icy air across the floor near Kaisel’s feet. They are more nuisance than attack, glittering briefly over the tile before melting in the Torchline warmth, but Flora immediately clutches at him again, half to keep herself from slipping and half because she is laughing too hard not to.
Her bare feet skid over the last of Spice’s frost as his hands catch her, and though she flails with all the dramatic urgency of a woman being wronged in her own home, she does very little that might actually stop him from hauling her up and over his shoulder. "Kai!" she protests, one hand braced against his back while the other reaches uselessly toward the counter, her laughter making a mess of any real authority. "Assborn, this is unacceptable! I am your queen and your wife and the creative director of this entire Deepfrost experience—" Somewhere in the struggle, her pom-pom hat slips free, tumbling onto the wet tile.
Spice, predictably, takes the abduction as a personal invitation to escalate. With a sharp little trill she launches from the counter and flies ahead of them toward the pool, circling back to send pale, halfhearted streams of icy air across the floor near Kaisel’s feet. They are more nuisance than attack, glittering briefly over the tile before melting in the Torchline warmth, but Flora immediately clutches at him again, half to keep herself from slipping and half because she is laughing too hard not to.
and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this
