Flora
Flora tilts her head as Kaisel crows his defence, the movement sending her ponytail swinging with exaggerated doubt. For someone so immediately wounded by the suggestion that he might not like her, he’s certainly doing a lot of explaining, and she lets him do it with an expression that grows more skeptical by the second. Her gaze drops first to the engagement ring on her finger, then to the sparkly orange hair tie at her wrist, before she exhales a soft, deeply unconvinced sigh. "Oh, obviously," she murmurs, lifting her eyes back to him with sly amusement tucked into the corners. "So if there were no s’mores on this whole trip, you’d be fine with that?" Her brows rise, playful challenge brightening her face as if this is a far more serious test of devotion than the ring, the bond, or the whole being married thing could ever hope to be.
When his head turns toward her with all the slow, haunted precision of a doll left too long in an attic, Flora only raises her eyebrows with wide, innocent patience, as though she hasn’t just casually called his stamina into question while holding a pillow against her chest. The innocence lasts just long enough to become insulting. Then she folds her arms, not so subtly lifting her tits at the same time, her chin angling upward as she lets him take in the very compelling evidence of how unfairly difficult she makes his life. "Oh, you would try and blame that on me." Leaning forward until her cleavage is right at his eyeline, Flora lowers her voice into a whisper shaped entirely out of mischief. "Same way I do everything else, babe. I get my ass up in the morning and run."
Straightening with a smirk, she catches the sheepish little bloom of his smile and feels its answering flicker through the bond, which only makes her laugh outright. "Worse," she adds, glancing toward the glowstones with renewed horror and delightand thus affirming IC the reason I put what would happen if you ate things in the F&F section. "I bet it really hurt coming out."
By the time Kaisel turns the backpack over, Flora is more or less just watching him Mary Poppins their entire campsite onto the ground. There are pillows, supplies, bags and bags of gummy worms, and finally the tent itself, because of course the most important thing has waited until the end like it wants a dramatic entrance. His innuendo lands cleanly enough that she has to bite the inside of her cheek not to reward him too quickly, though the sparkle in her eyes gives her away.
She crouches to gather one of the poles, sliding her fingertips slowly and suggestively along its length. Her gaze flicks up to him from beneath her lashes, mouth curving. "And that’s your professional opinion, is it? That we both just tug until it’s up?"
When his head turns toward her with all the slow, haunted precision of a doll left too long in an attic, Flora only raises her eyebrows with wide, innocent patience, as though she hasn’t just casually called his stamina into question while holding a pillow against her chest. The innocence lasts just long enough to become insulting. Then she folds her arms, not so subtly lifting her tits at the same time, her chin angling upward as she lets him take in the very compelling evidence of how unfairly difficult she makes his life. "Oh, you would try and blame that on me." Leaning forward until her cleavage is right at his eyeline, Flora lowers her voice into a whisper shaped entirely out of mischief. "Same way I do everything else, babe. I get my ass up in the morning and run."
Straightening with a smirk, she catches the sheepish little bloom of his smile and feels its answering flicker through the bond, which only makes her laugh outright. "Worse," she adds, glancing toward the glowstones with renewed horror and delight
By the time Kaisel turns the backpack over, Flora is more or less just watching him Mary Poppins their entire campsite onto the ground. There are pillows, supplies, bags and bags of gummy worms, and finally the tent itself, because of course the most important thing has waited until the end like it wants a dramatic entrance. His innuendo lands cleanly enough that she has to bite the inside of her cheek not to reward him too quickly, though the sparkle in her eyes gives her away.
She crouches to gather one of the poles, sliding her fingertips slowly and suggestively along its length. Her gaze flicks up to him from beneath her lashes, mouth curving. "And that’s your professional opinion, is it? That we both just tug until it’s up?"
Fatefully, I tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me
Misery, Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep
Misery, Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep
Code stolen from Queen Sky
