I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings
Flora’s brows lift again, and she adopts the expression of someone who has been handed a theory so elaborate it scarcely deserves an answer. "Oooh, so first I took you into the pool, but now I silently mind-controlled a dragon that no one even saw into somehow making you jump in?" She glances toward the space where Spice has settled against her shoulders, then back at Kaisel with a small, disbelieving shake of her head. "Babe, all I could see was you and your extremely broad shoulders." The implication is plain: if Spice had been hidden behind him, that was hardly Flora’s fault.
When he reaches out and asks for his own memory, her gaze drops to his hand with exaggerated patience, as though he has requested something wildly inconvenient and she is considering whether he has earned it. Eventually, magnanimously, she relents. Reaching down, Flora lets her fingertips meet his, and the memory rises around them at once.
From Kaisel’s point of view, there is no carefully framed sightline and no obvious accomplice waiting at his back. There is only Flora in the pool, soaked through and pointing at him with that smug little tut on her mouth, and then the sudden lurch of his own body pitching forward. The replay catches the surprise in him, the flailing attempt to recover, and the inevitable splash that follows, but it offers nothing more. No dragon. No visible push. Nothing that would make his case easier.
As the memory fades, Flora looks down at him with calm, judicial satisfaction. "Hmm," she says softly, as if she is genuinely considering the evidence. "Definitely looks like you jumped in, to me." Folding her arms across her chest, her expression changes to one of cague hostility. "Maybe what you're saying is that my demigod magic isn't good enough?"
When he reaches out and asks for his own memory, her gaze drops to his hand with exaggerated patience, as though he has requested something wildly inconvenient and she is considering whether he has earned it. Eventually, magnanimously, she relents. Reaching down, Flora lets her fingertips meet his, and the memory rises around them at once.
From Kaisel’s point of view, there is no carefully framed sightline and no obvious accomplice waiting at his back. There is only Flora in the pool, soaked through and pointing at him with that smug little tut on her mouth, and then the sudden lurch of his own body pitching forward. The replay catches the surprise in him, the flailing attempt to recover, and the inevitable splash that follows, but it offers nothing more. No dragon. No visible push. Nothing that would make his case easier.
As the memory fades, Flora looks down at him with calm, judicial satisfaction. "Hmm," she says softly, as if she is genuinely considering the evidence. "Definitely looks like you jumped in, to me." Folding her arms across her chest, her expression changes to one of cague hostility. "Maybe what you're saying is that my demigod magic isn't good enough?"
and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this
