Enzo
Controversially, Enzo has not moved to Torchline.
Yet.
He's working on it, okay?
Really, it's almost inevitable. Where Flora goes, Enzo follows, and the young man doesn't oft care to take the lead enough to make the reverse necessary. Essentially already a Torchliner by habit of bumming around the beaches nigh-often enough to be a resident (not like he has to pay taxes or anything (or would, let's be honest)), his twin's letter is more of a "RSVP for a headcount" than an invitation. So he swans in - last, and fashionably so - with an armful of goodies and all the long-legged grace of a boy who knows he's pretty but doesn't care to use it yet.
Dropping a loving, exaggerated kiss of greeting to his sister's cheek, Enzo winks over at Paige in greeting, dimples on full display as he hip-checks his twin for good secondary measure of physical contact and annoyance at once. "So what aesthetic are we shooting for here Flora-mine? Sad grandmother abandoned to the seaside by her family? You'd look dashing in a quilted coverlet-cape my dear." His mirth is genial and widespread, inviting in the other two who poke into the soon-to-be abode more tentatively like an eager octopus' reaching arms.
Yet.
He's working on it, okay?
Really, it's almost inevitable. Where Flora goes, Enzo follows, and the young man doesn't oft care to take the lead enough to make the reverse necessary. Essentially already a Torchliner by habit of bumming around the beaches nigh-often enough to be a resident (not like he has to pay taxes or anything (or would, let's be honest)), his twin's letter is more of a "RSVP for a headcount" than an invitation. So he swans in - last, and fashionably so - with an armful of goodies and all the long-legged grace of a boy who knows he's pretty but doesn't care to use it yet.
Dropping a loving, exaggerated kiss of greeting to his sister's cheek, Enzo winks over at Paige in greeting, dimples on full display as he hip-checks his twin for good secondary measure of physical contact and annoyance at once. "So what aesthetic are we shooting for here Flora-mine? Sad grandmother abandoned to the seaside by her family? You'd look dashing in a quilted coverlet-cape my dear." His mirth is genial and widespread, inviting in the other two who poke into the soon-to-be abode more tentatively like an eager octopus' reaching arms.
the colors in these veins don't glow like they used to
they won't do it for you, they won't do it for me
they won't do it for you, they won't do it for me
