flora
The confusion doesn't settle so much as spread, seeping into all the places Flora had packed full of certainty until there isn't enough room left for her anger to stand properly. She stares at the space where the memory had been, at the absence of it, as if the Mathair and Sohalia and Colt might still flicker back into place and offer up the missing piece if Flora just looks hard enough. When nothing happens, she slumps forward against the bar, one elbow finding the polished surface while her other hand rakes back through her curls, tugging them away from her face as if she can clear her thoughts by sheer force.
Because what the fuck?
Her gaze darts back toward Colt when the rancher mentions her birthday, and Flora pulls in a breath that seems to catch halfway down. She lets it out in a puff of her cheeks, the sound small and frustrated, before shaking her head at the apology as if she can’t quite accept it cleanly when the entire shape of the thing has just changed beneath her feet. "No, no, I mean..." She presses her lips together for a second, aqua eyes dropping briefly to the frost-laced highball glass before lifting again. "I know I came at you hard, but I thought you knew what you did."
The words land worse out loud than they had in her head. Flora swallows, the motion tight, and when she looks up properly, her eyes find Colt’s with none of the earlier polish left to hide behind. Not because she has suddenly forgiven everything or figured out where to put the hurt, but because pretending this is still simple would be more embarrassing than being wrong in the first place. "I think I’m the one who owes you an apology," she says, and her head shakes again, curls slipping forward despite the path her fingers had just carved through them. "I just—" The words fray, and she exhales through her nose, trying to find the right ones when everything feels so much more complicated and fucked up than it had five minutes ago.
"It’s like I said at the party, or what I tried to say anyway, that obviously anyone can go with you to the desert, and it isn’t like you’re not free to ask them to go." Her shoulders lift helplessly, one hand opening in a small, vague gesture because that had never really been the point, or at least Flora hadn’t thought it was. "I just thought..." She gives a little laugh then, brittle and disbelieving, not because any of this is funny but because the alternative is letting the shock turn sharp again before she understands what she’s even cutting. [asy]"Well, the way it came across was that you were trying to steal Sohalia away, not just offering her an opportunity, so it felt hella shitty because I thought we were all friends."
Her mouth closes around the next thought before she can say it too quickly. I thought Sohalia was being honest. I thought you were the one twisting things. I thought I was defending her and us and me. None of it fits neatly over the memory Colt had just offered, and that makes Flora’s stomach twist with a new, colder discomfort. "I didn’t..." She trails off, glancing toward the empty space where the scene had played out, then gestures vaguely toward it with her fingers. "I didn’t realize that wasn’t what had actually happened."
If Colt hadn’t been standing right there, Flora might have called the next memory forward on instinct, might have dragged the aftermath of the birthday party into the air as if one ugly truth demanded another. Sohalia’s tears, the confusion over why Colt would call her a liar, Flora’s own certainty, fierce and immediate, wrapping around the Luminary without once stopping to wonder where the story had bent. Now, with Colt across from her and the champagne still fizzing like this is a celebration instead of an autopsy, the lack of honesty is suddenly impossible not to see, and Flora has no idea what to do with that except press her fingers against the side of her glass and stare at the frost until it starts to melt beneath her touch.
"I'm sorry, Colt."
Because what the fuck?
Her gaze darts back toward Colt when the rancher mentions her birthday, and Flora pulls in a breath that seems to catch halfway down. She lets it out in a puff of her cheeks, the sound small and frustrated, before shaking her head at the apology as if she can’t quite accept it cleanly when the entire shape of the thing has just changed beneath her feet. "No, no, I mean..." She presses her lips together for a second, aqua eyes dropping briefly to the frost-laced highball glass before lifting again. "I know I came at you hard, but I thought you knew what you did."
The words land worse out loud than they had in her head. Flora swallows, the motion tight, and when she looks up properly, her eyes find Colt’s with none of the earlier polish left to hide behind. Not because she has suddenly forgiven everything or figured out where to put the hurt, but because pretending this is still simple would be more embarrassing than being wrong in the first place. "I think I’m the one who owes you an apology," she says, and her head shakes again, curls slipping forward despite the path her fingers had just carved through them. "I just—" The words fray, and she exhales through her nose, trying to find the right ones when everything feels so much more complicated and fucked up than it had five minutes ago.
"It’s like I said at the party, or what I tried to say anyway, that obviously anyone can go with you to the desert, and it isn’t like you’re not free to ask them to go." Her shoulders lift helplessly, one hand opening in a small, vague gesture because that had never really been the point, or at least Flora hadn’t thought it was. "I just thought..." She gives a little laugh then, brittle and disbelieving, not because any of this is funny but because the alternative is letting the shock turn sharp again before she understands what she’s even cutting. [asy]"Well, the way it came across was that you were trying to steal Sohalia away, not just offering her an opportunity, so it felt hella shitty because I thought we were all friends."
Her mouth closes around the next thought before she can say it too quickly. I thought Sohalia was being honest. I thought you were the one twisting things. I thought I was defending her and us and me. None of it fits neatly over the memory Colt had just offered, and that makes Flora’s stomach twist with a new, colder discomfort. "I didn’t..." She trails off, glancing toward the empty space where the scene had played out, then gestures vaguely toward it with her fingers. "I didn’t realize that wasn’t what had actually happened."
If Colt hadn’t been standing right there, Flora might have called the next memory forward on instinct, might have dragged the aftermath of the birthday party into the air as if one ugly truth demanded another. Sohalia’s tears, the confusion over why Colt would call her a liar, Flora’s own certainty, fierce and immediate, wrapping around the Luminary without once stopping to wonder where the story had bent. Now, with Colt across from her and the champagne still fizzing like this is a celebration instead of an autopsy, the lack of honesty is suddenly impossible not to see, and Flora has no idea what to do with that except press her fingers against the side of her glass and stare at the frost until it starts to melt beneath her touch.
"I'm sorry, Colt."
My house of stone, your ivy grows
And now I'm covered in you
And now I'm covered in you
