Flora
It’s almost absurd, how much has happened in a single day. From ghost sheets in the marketplace—Kai flailing and shouting like an absolute idiot while she cackled herself breathless—right through to that dizzy collision in the alley, where all the air had changed between them and everything fragile in her heart had threatened to spill right out. She hadn’t meant to say it, hadn’t planned to confess that she’d still been seeing Jack, but maybe it had needed to be said. Maybe there’d never been a version of them that could begin without clearing the wreckage first.
And gods, there had been wreckage. The crash of it still echoed faintly in her chest, like the final ring of a bell long struck. But wrapped up in him like this, the echoes sound like laughter. Like a day that began with shrieking in the street and ended in tangled limbs and whispers in the dark. Like something real, something worth building. The kind of love that survives its own mess.
Kaisel’s arm is heavy across her waist, his breath puffing against her hair, soft and even now. Her body still hums faintly from the way he held her, touched her, told her—through every thrust, every moan, every broken sound of her name—that he wanted her. And gods, she had felt wanted. Not by default or duty or possession, not as a trophy or a secret or a mistake, but simply as Flora. Stubborn and sometimes ridiculous Flora, who could laugh too loudly and want too much and still be wrapped up like this in someone who saw her and stayed.
The weight of sleep tugs at her from all sides now, loosening her limbs, silencing the whir of her thoughts. But before it pulls her under completely, she lets out a breath, not quite a sigh, more like a settling. A promise to herself. Whatever it means to be them now—whatever complicated, chaotic, beautiful shape their future might take—she knows they’ll manage it. Between his boyish optimism and her unwillingness to back down from anything once she’s decided it’s hers, they’ll carve out a life that fits them like this bed fits their limbs: messily, warmly, perfectly.
Her fingers thread gently through his, a sleepy tangle of knuckles and warmth. And even as her mind begins to drift, heavy and slow and sweet, she holds on, like a pair of otters in the tide, hands clasped so they don’t float apart.
~FIN
And gods, there had been wreckage. The crash of it still echoed faintly in her chest, like the final ring of a bell long struck. But wrapped up in him like this, the echoes sound like laughter. Like a day that began with shrieking in the street and ended in tangled limbs and whispers in the dark. Like something real, something worth building. The kind of love that survives its own mess.
Kaisel’s arm is heavy across her waist, his breath puffing against her hair, soft and even now. Her body still hums faintly from the way he held her, touched her, told her—through every thrust, every moan, every broken sound of her name—that he wanted her. And gods, she had felt wanted. Not by default or duty or possession, not as a trophy or a secret or a mistake, but simply as Flora. Stubborn and sometimes ridiculous Flora, who could laugh too loudly and want too much and still be wrapped up like this in someone who saw her and stayed.
The weight of sleep tugs at her from all sides now, loosening her limbs, silencing the whir of her thoughts. But before it pulls her under completely, she lets out a breath, not quite a sigh, more like a settling. A promise to herself. Whatever it means to be them now—whatever complicated, chaotic, beautiful shape their future might take—she knows they’ll manage it. Between his boyish optimism and her unwillingness to back down from anything once she’s decided it’s hers, they’ll carve out a life that fits them like this bed fits their limbs: messily, warmly, perfectly.
Her fingers thread gently through his, a sleepy tangle of knuckles and warmth. And even as her mind begins to drift, heavy and slow and sweet, she holds on, like a pair of otters in the tide, hands clasped so they don’t float apart.
~FIN
I hope you're sweating the bigger stuff,
finding some peace in an honest love
Hope you stop when you've had enough & throw the towel in
finding some peace in an honest love
Hope you stop when you've had enough & throw the towel in
Code stolen from Queen Sky
