the difference between a garden
AND A GRAVEYARD
AND A GRAVEYARD
Enzo’s lips purse, a disapproving frown edging on full lips. Flora is predisposed to these sorts of dramatics, but they’d been of an exact age when she would say them with more heart than she does now - more teasing and with dramatic sighs instead of tears. “Then am I nobody? The friends you told me about? Your mom, Queen Maeve? You’re not just putting yourself down when you say those things Paige - you’re insulting all of us who do care for you.” An outlook he has utilized on himself many times when he felt unwanted, forgotten by a father that had never planned on another son.
However she takes it, it seems she is at least willing to be distracted - unless she thinks she’s distracting him, which she isn’t given how transparent her topic change is. Not that Enzo won’t abide it, rolling his eyes and quirking a smile - like a shield against her bitterness. “Not all of us have an ocean on our doorstep PG. If you want to sit in the sand and mope you can, but I’m going to go swim.” He bumps his hand beneath her chin, though he’s sure it’ll piss her off, and gallivants back into the ocean with a laugh. The implied invitation hanging in his wake.
However she takes it, it seems she is at least willing to be distracted - unless she thinks she’s distracting him, which she isn’t given how transparent her topic change is. Not that Enzo won’t abide it, rolling his eyes and quirking a smile - like a shield against her bitterness. “Not all of us have an ocean on our doorstep PG. If you want to sit in the sand and mope you can, but I’m going to go swim.” He bumps his hand beneath her chin, though he’s sure it’ll piss her off, and gallivants back into the ocean with a laugh. The implied invitation hanging in his wake.
is what you choose to put in the soil
ENZO
