I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings
Kaisel’s low, careful murmur does nothing to reach her. Flora is too soaked, too cold in the particular damp way that makes every movement feel heavier, and far too committed to the performance she has built for herself to be softened by a gentle use of her name now. When he asks her to be reasonable, her head only tips slightly to one side, the look she gives him carrying all the patient disbelief of someone who thinks the answer ought to be obvious. He has thrown her into the pool twice. Whatever border separates reasonable behaviour from vengeance has already been left somewhere behind them, probably floating facedown near the rest of the tumseas.
She doesn’t even get the chance to answer before he makes his break for it. The jam slips from her fingers as Flora staggers after him, bare feet skimming over the ice while she throws one hand out to steady herself. The jar lands somewhere behind her with a dull clink, but she has had enough practice earlier while Spice was building this spectacle to stay upright, catching her balance in a quick, graceless slide before pointing sharply toward him. "Spice!"
The dragon needs no further instruction. She swoops down with her claws extended, dramatic enough to suggest Kaisel’s throat is in imminent danger before she veers at the last second and sinks her talons into the tumsea instead. The inflatable gives up with a long, sad squeal, air rushing out beneath him as Spice tears free and flaps back toward Flora with a chirrup of satisfaction.
Flora comes to a stop nearby, one foot sliding out before she catches herself, and plants both hands on her hips as she looks down at him. Water still drips from her curls, her leggings cling stubbornly to her legs, and there is something very satisfied in the slow curve of her mouth as Spice settles across her shoulders, tiny and pale and entirely too pleased with herself. "Well," Flora says dryly, "if you die, that’s one more thing we’ll have in common." Her brows lift as though this is a perfectly sensible conclusion to reach, while the dragon gives a low, anticipatory trill against the side of her neck. "Any last words?"
She doesn’t even get the chance to answer before he makes his break for it. The jam slips from her fingers as Flora staggers after him, bare feet skimming over the ice while she throws one hand out to steady herself. The jar lands somewhere behind her with a dull clink, but she has had enough practice earlier while Spice was building this spectacle to stay upright, catching her balance in a quick, graceless slide before pointing sharply toward him. "Spice!"
The dragon needs no further instruction. She swoops down with her claws extended, dramatic enough to suggest Kaisel’s throat is in imminent danger before she veers at the last second and sinks her talons into the tumsea instead. The inflatable gives up with a long, sad squeal, air rushing out beneath him as Spice tears free and flaps back toward Flora with a chirrup of satisfaction.
Flora comes to a stop nearby, one foot sliding out before she catches herself, and plants both hands on her hips as she looks down at him. Water still drips from her curls, her leggings cling stubbornly to her legs, and there is something very satisfied in the slow curve of her mouth as Spice settles across her shoulders, tiny and pale and entirely too pleased with herself. "Well," Flora says dryly, "if you die, that’s one more thing we’ll have in common." Her brows lift as though this is a perfectly sensible conclusion to reach, while the dragon gives a low, anticipatory trill against the side of her neck. "Any last words?"
and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this
