is this the end of all the endings?
The fondness that unfurls through their bond catches Flora somewhere soft and immediate. It spills back bright and sparkling, all girlish affection and helpless delight, because being married to Kaisel hasn’t done a thing to dull the ridiculous, ongoing crush she has on him. If anything, it’s made it worse. There are still moments like this, tucked beneath the loose web of a failed hammock with his hand warm against her face and a leaf stuck to his cheek, where she looks at him and feels briefly, stupidly, wonderfully undone by how much she likes him as well as loves him.
A giggle slips out of her before she can stop it, though Flora lowers her voice as if she’s about to reveal something scandalous rather than tease him for falling out of a hammock. "I’ve seen you in all sorts of positions," she murmurs, letting the words turn low and sultry despite the laugh still lurking behind them. "I thought maybe you were trying something new." Her shrug is small but entirely sincere in its implication: who is she to question his vision? Who is she, really, not to follow him headlong into whatever nonsense he’s attempting?
Her grin softens as she leans into the slide of his palm against her cheek, aqua eyes lingering over him with no attempt at subtlety. There’s something unfair about the way he looks beneath the festival’s filtered light, all dark eyes and crooked smiles and soft hoodie, handsome enough that she has to take a second just to properly appreciate it. When he kisses her, the smile already pulling at her mouth nearly ruins the whole thing, Flora trying and failing to hold it back before she breaks into a soft, adoring laugh against his lips.
A giggle slips out of her before she can stop it, though Flora lowers her voice as if she’s about to reveal something scandalous rather than tease him for falling out of a hammock. "I’ve seen you in all sorts of positions," she murmurs, letting the words turn low and sultry despite the laugh still lurking behind them. "I thought maybe you were trying something new." Her shrug is small but entirely sincere in its implication: who is she to question his vision? Who is she, really, not to follow him headlong into whatever nonsense he’s attempting?
Her grin softens as she leans into the slide of his palm against her cheek, aqua eyes lingering over him with no attempt at subtlety. There’s something unfair about the way he looks beneath the festival’s filtered light, all dark eyes and crooked smiles and soft hoodie, handsome enough that she has to take a second just to properly appreciate it. When he kisses her, the smile already pulling at her mouth nearly ruins the whole thing, Flora trying and failing to hold it back before she breaks into a soft, adoring laugh against his lips.
my broken bones are mending
