i could be the reason you can't sleep at night
The next fireball has barely left Deimos’s hand before Flora moves. It isn’t graceful in the polished, and thank gods for that, because this is faster than graceful. It’s sharp, instinctive, almost ugly with the suddenness of it: one bare foot digging into the sand, her body cutting sideways before the line of flame can properly claim the space she’s just abandoned. Because if Deimos had aimed that one at her properly, if it had come with real intent rather than careful restraint, she still thinks she’d have slipped it. Not because he’s anything less than terrifyingly precise, and not because she’s suddenly decided she could stand opposite the Sword and do anything other than become a very blonde cautionary tale, but because for once her body answers before doubt can get in the way.
It thrills her, which is probably a character flaw, but there are worse ones.
Flora turns back toward him with sand stuck to her legs and a crooked grin pulling at her mouth, lifting one hand to point at him with all the dramatic accusation of someone who absolutely plans on enjoying herself. "Two is definitely cheating," she calls of his fireballs, breathless enough that the complaint loses most of its dignity and gains quite a lot of sparkle.
Still, she doesn’t tell him to stop. Instead she bounces her eyebrows, shifting her weight lightly from one foot to the other as if the beach beneath her is suddenly less a place to stand and more a board she has to keep balanced beneath her. Her heart is still kicking hard, her grin hasn’t gone anywhere, and when she lifts her chin at him, the invitation is obvious. Again.
2/4
It thrills her, which is probably a character flaw, but there are worse ones.
Flora turns back toward him with sand stuck to her legs and a crooked grin pulling at her mouth, lifting one hand to point at him with all the dramatic accusation of someone who absolutely plans on enjoying herself. "Two is definitely cheating," she calls of his fireballs, breathless enough that the complaint loses most of its dignity and gains quite a lot of sparkle.
Still, she doesn’t tell him to stop. Instead she bounces her eyebrows, shifting her weight lightly from one foot to the other as if the beach beneath her is suddenly less a place to stand and more a board she has to keep balanced beneath her. Her heart is still kicking hard, her grin hasn’t gone anywhere, and when she lifts her chin at him, the invitation is obvious. Again.
2/4
