[PQ] little by little, babe

knowing I can't turn the rain into sun any more

Top drawer, left side. Soh dug through the drawer in question, collecting every bottle of sunscreen she could find and making a mental note to send Flora more in a care package. She was busy hunting for some sandals to go with the beachwear when a sudden silence fell over the room, and she looked up to see Flora holding clothing that clearly did not belong to her. She hesitated just long enough for Kaisel to volunteer for Ark duty, and she shot a grateful look his way. After her participation in the whole letter business, she doubted that she was particularly welcome aboard Jack's ship, either.

But the moment passed quickly - at least on the outside - and Soh let it go, worrying her lip between her teeth as she turned back to packing. "I can stop by once a week," she promised. "I did rent that apartment just down the street. It's no trouble at all to pop in." With the packing complete, Soh helped Flora carry any boat-bound boxes down the stairs, making a neat stack by the door before going to gather up the food and drinks - and, of course, the ice cream.

---

Soh offers to keep an eye on the house, then helps carry things to make a pile of boat-bound boxes by the door. She does not forget the ice cream.

Sohalia

i could be the reason you can't sleep at night

"You're too long, " Flora sasses playfully at Kaisel under her breath before gratitude blooms on her face when he gathers Jack’s things without comment; the silent favour feels heavier—and safer—than any commiserating hug.

Sohalia’s promise draws Flora’s gaze across the sea of boxes. "Thanks babe. If the mailbox sprouts ferns you have my permission to prune with extreme prejudice, no matter what Mateo might say."

They settle into a rhythm: Kaisel prowling the upstairs rooms, windows clicking shut behind him while plants drink deep; Sohalia ferrying boat-bound crates downstairs, the scent of sunscreen and vanilla ice cream trailing in her wake; Flora flitting between them, tying neat twine bows, scrawling labels—​BOAT KITCHEN, DECK PARTY, ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY SHOES—​and occasionally flinging another hat on the ‘take’ heap despite Kaisel’s exasperated sighs.

At last the wardrobe door swings closed on a smaller, tidier rainbow. Flora presses her palm to the knob in a quiet farewell, then turns, wiping a faint sheen of sweat from her brow. "All right, mission accomplished." She lifts the final box—​DRAGON MISC​—and marches it downstairs where Spice and Tarak circle like eager inspectors.

In the kitchen she scoops three generous bowls of half-melted ice cream, crowns each with a tiny umbrella, and passes them out. "A toast," she declares, raising her spoon, "to the best friends who lift more than boxes, and to houses that stay standing till we’re ready to come home. Endless cocktails, blanket-fort caftans, and weekly wellness checks—​I owe you both." Glancing between them, her smile softens considerably. " I don’t know what I’d do without you."

She clinks spoon-tips with Sohalia and Kaisel, then digs in—​letting the first sweet, cold mouthful melt away the bitterness of good-byes left unsaid.

~FIN