I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings
"I haven’t even touched you yet!" Flora hisses, though the accusation has already started to crack apart beneath her laughter. At this point, their back-and-forth sounds less like a married couple and more like two children squabbling in the back seat of a car, each one convinced the other started it and neither willing to give up the last word. When he asks whether he’s been a bad boy, her expression sweetens in a way that should probably worry him more than any direct threat, water still dripping from her curls as she tilts her head. "Why don’t you come here and find out?" she asks, her voice syrupy enough to make the question feel like a trap even before the illusion catches him.
The moment of distraction is all she needs. Flora doesn’t bother with the tumsea floaties or whatever flimsy defence he might have been reaching for; she simply closes the last bit of distance and launches herself at him, wet clothes and all, collapsing over him as he goes down in a mess of shells, flippers, laughter, and offended noises. Her fingers find his sides with ruthless accuracy, and for several seconds she gives him no room to recover, laughter spilling out of her as he twists beneath her. Only when he insists he’s punished does she pause, her fingertips still resting lightly against him as though they might resume at any second. Flora cocks her head, aqua eyes narrowing with the solemn suspicion of a teacher deciding whether a student is actually sorry or merely hoping to avoid detention. "Are you?" she asks, her mouth twitching at the corners. "Say that was the best winter surprise you’ve ever had, then."
The moment of distraction is all she needs. Flora doesn’t bother with the tumsea floaties or whatever flimsy defence he might have been reaching for; she simply closes the last bit of distance and launches herself at him, wet clothes and all, collapsing over him as he goes down in a mess of shells, flippers, laughter, and offended noises. Her fingers find his sides with ruthless accuracy, and for several seconds she gives him no room to recover, laughter spilling out of her as he twists beneath her. Only when he insists he’s punished does she pause, her fingertips still resting lightly against him as though they might resume at any second. Flora cocks her head, aqua eyes narrowing with the solemn suspicion of a teacher deciding whether a student is actually sorry or merely hoping to avoid detention. "Are you?" she asks, her mouth twitching at the corners. "Say that was the best winter surprise you’ve ever had, then."
and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this
