taking more from everything that ends

flora

LongHeat draped Torchline in its signature cocktail of humidity and sunlight, the kind that melted thoughts into syrup and left even the sea too languid to bother with waves. The Sugar Tide rocked lazily at her private driftwood mooring—far enough from the hustle of Kaiholo to feel exclusive, close enough that hels still wheeled overhead in search of free lunch.

Flora had claimed the broadest section of deck as her personal sun-altar. A pair of cherry-red bikini bottoms rode scandalously low on her hips, and twin flower-shaped pasties—orchid-pink with tiny gold stamens—kept her nipples from roasting. Sun-oil glimmered on every curve, save where the light caught the twisted knot of scar tissue spearing across her left shoulder and the pale, puckered line that tracked diagonally over her belly—Pierce’s legacy, silvering under the heat like tempered glass.

Spice fluttered in slow circuits above, the little white dragon’s frosty breath descending every few minutes in a cool, sparkling veil. Each blast raised a soft hiss from the sun-heated boards and coaxed a blissful sigh from Flora. Beside her, a glass of watermelon-mint spritzer—heavy on the rum, light on the mint—sweated into the slatted teak. A can of coconut-scented oil, two lemon wedges, and a tangle of beaded anklets lay scattered like offerings to the gods of leisure.

Aqua eyes half-lidded against the sun, Flora let Torchline’s sounds blur together: distant market shouts, rhythmic thud of a fishing skiff against its moorings, the lazy creak of Sugar Tide’s stained-glass sails swaying above. Every so often her gaze drifted seaward, pupils narrowing as she scanned for a familiar silhouette of maroon sails—just in case a certain pirate smuggler thought about “visiting” without permission again.

I want to be when you fall on me like night
I wanna kill the lights

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

Kaisel

One foot in the ground
One foot in the grave

When the first option for a mission in Torchline becomes available, Kaisel grabs it—a decision he is now steadily regretting ever stepping off the skyship and nearly melting on the spot. He can’t turn back now even if he wants to, orders are orders after all, though he’s got another—arguably more important—reason for being here anyway, Longheat days and all.

It doesn’t take long for the directions in town to lead him to her. The dock complains under each step, but it blends in with the rest of the deck traffic—fishermen and sailors forming an ongoing thread of coastal commerce. The Sugar Tide bobs against her tether and Kaisel lifts a hand to his forehead, squinting against the sun as he traces some of Spice’s lazy circles above. He drops the hand, pressing a finger to his lips in a silent plea for the dragon’s alliance, certain she’s seen him as he strains to quietly board the boat. It’s a careful process for someone unaccustomed to the rolling bucks of the seafaring vessel, different from the handle of the ones in the sky, and he’s only really got one hand free to steady him because the other is holding his mango sorbet icecream cone. He can’t be expected to sweat without some kind of treat.

He manages it, though there is one harrowing moment where he’s tossing his weight from dock to boat that gets sketchy and one of his sandals slides on some seawater spray coating the boat’s edge, but he doesn’t go down, thank the gods. Recovering, he sneaks steadily towards the boat’s deck, where Spice is drifting over, and therefore where he expects Flora to be.

Kaisel came to Torchline prepared this time—beyond just the icecream in hand. He has a small pack slung on his back with some general travel safety items, clothes, and personal effects, determined not to get coerced into godly garments again any time soon. He’s wearing flip-flops, a tank top with a cartoon shark depicted on the front, and swimming trunks that are a black and blue ombre, all items collected last time he’d been here without a thing on him.

What Kaisel is not prepared for is the sight of Flora as the deck finally comes into view. Her skin glistens like a midnight sky turned copper, each bead of sweat and streak of oil a twinkling star against the expanse of her body. Space still needs to be explored they say, and the slope of her body is begging to be fully mapped out. Kaisel stops dead, held taut by the breasts peaking above the contours of her crisping cosmos. The pasties left very little for him to imagine, but saves him from further regret.

The moment passes with a beat, the heat coiling inside him lost beneath the ongoing inferno of the day. A scowl at once replaces the awe, perhaps to cover anything else that might appear, and he deftly fishes out a towel from his pack and launches it at her. “Sugar Tide,” he drawls in greeting, working past the dryness that gripped his throat upon the sight of her. “I like it.” He sits criss-cross next to her, licking his ice cream.

It's not the devil at your door
It's just your shadow on the floor

flora

The towel lands and, for a split second, Flora’s pulse spikes—memory flashes of polished boots thudding onto deckboards and a low drawl calling her love that she does not want replaying today. Then the figure resolves into tanned shoulders, a cartoon-shark tank, and a mango-yellow grin she recognises. Relief floods in, chased quickly by wicked delight.

Kaisel looks like LongHeat distilled: sun-glazed skin, loose ombré trunks clinging in all the flattering places, dark hair mussed by sea wind. Even the sweat beading at his collarbones seems to sparkle for effect. Torchline should charge tourists to watch him walk the dock, and yet there’s something undeniably and adorably out of place about seeing him crossed-legged on her boat.

”The Sugar Tide welcomes you aboard,” Flora purrs, letting the towel slide away so the orchid pasties and glistening oil reclaim centre stage. Kaisel might not be interested in her as anything more than a friend, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t entitled to making him squirm just a bit. She rolls onto her stomach beside him, elbows propped, feet kicking lazily over her ass. The scars on her shoulder catch the sunlight like pale lightning, unapologetic and shimmering as Flora peers up at Kaisel.

She rests her chin on folded wrists and coquettishly tilts her head, aqua eyes wide and pleading. ”Share? Just a lick?” Her lower lip juts in an exaggerated pout before curling into a grin. ”Complimenting my choice of name only gets you minimal benefits—frozen mango earns you my eternal gratitude.”

A hand sweeps toward the stained-glass sails overhead. “Also, I’m almost ready for her first proper flight with two souls on board. You brave enough to tag along? I promise the view’s spectacular.” Pausing for just a moment, if the movement of Flora’s shoulders just happens to make her cleavage look even more enticing, what of it? ”Above the clouds, I mean.”

I want to be when you fall on me like night
I wanna kill the lights

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

Kaisel

One foot in the ground
One foot in the grave

The movement of the towel draws his gaze like a siren song. It traces the edges of the flower-shaped barrier, imagining the secret tucked beneath it, its shape, its color, the—no. Fuck. He whips his attention to the opposing side when he catches himself roving over her like some primal beast, hungry for something his icecream cannot provide. Flora’s hot, there’s no denying it, even a friend can appreciate the attractiveness of their friend. What friends should not do, is see each other practically nude. Swimsuits, worn normally, already cut away enough cover to strain that thread, but as always Flora takes it to a new level Kaisel is unprepared for.

He exhales heavily, blinking back at the afterimage of her shapes as he focuses on her voice. He feigns interest in the distant sea, as if watching an imaginary pod of dolphins. The sound of her rearranging beside him has him risking a glance back towards her, and with relief he finds she’s holstered some of her wicked ammunition, for now. Though, the sight of her bare back, a picture normally reserved for the space between sheets, is enough to heat his blood should he stare too long and let thoughts tumble into unwelcome dreams. Perhaps he ought to keep his distance during Longheat if this is her attire, gods grant him strength, or at least sense.

”You are absolutely going to be a lobster in an hour dressed like that,” he mutters, finding that teasing her in turn, and imagining her broiled, helps to snuff out the chokehold of desire. He chooses to focus on the off-color mark against her shoulder, the repaired damage a sobering reminder, one which tugs at his chest in a different manner.

”Funny, I thought I already earned that when I packed up your dragon’s hoard of a house,” he smirks, but doesn’t complain as he offers her the icecream, though he doesn’t relinquish it entirely. At her gesture, he glances up at the sails, squinting against the sun as they flap idly. ”Oh yeah?” a smile as he locks eyes with her, the shine of adventure already written there. ”Now that I am all on board for. Give me the skies over the sea any day of the week.” He pulls the ice cream back to his own mouth, but her breasts beg for his attention once more, though they hardly need to, they’re practically a magnet. He catches himself faster this time and hurriedly bites off a large chunk of icecream, tossing the cold back and forth in his mouth, a welcome distraction. ”There’s no lack of good views any of the times I’ve been with you,” he agrees without intention for anything other than the sprawl of gorgeous Torchline she’s exposed him to. ”Can you…drive it well?” he considers after a beat, skeptical, as he offers her another chance at the sorbet.

It's not the devil at your door
It's just your shadow on the floor

flora

Flora’s grin sharpens, pure and feline delight spreading like honey across her features each time Kaisel’s gaze flickers away, desperate for safer horizons. She might have warned him that bare skin and near-indecency are Torchline staples during LongHeat, but watching his careful composure crack feels far more rewarding than mercy. She arches lazily, intentionally drawing attention to every glittering, oiled curve—sunlit skin a siren song she knows he’s desperately trying not to listen to. Her scars, pale and twisting, feel less raw beneath the heat of his attention, a reminder of battles fought and survived. If only all scars could be admired so easily.

When he pulls the sorbet back too quickly, she makes a soft, disappointed noise, eyes flashing playfully as she shrugs at his warning. "Me? Burn? Never." Leaning theatrically into his space—shoulder brushing casually against his bare arm—she presses her fingers gently against her chest, evaluating whether the sun had truly started to redden her skin. Then she twists onto one hip, inspecting the bronze glow along her thighs and calves. "Golden-brown is my colour anyway," she declares. "But you're welcome to do an inspection if you think I've missed any spots."

He offers the sorbet again, skepticism about her flying abilities colouring his expression, and this time Flora’s ready. Her hand darts forward, slender fingers encircling his wrist, holding him in place before he can retreat. Aqua eyes fixed boldly on his, Flora slowly leans forward, tongue flicking out to swirl wickedly and deliberately around the frozen treat. She laps at the sorbet with salacious exaggeration, every movement a clear suggestion, gaze heavy-lidded and entirely unrepentant.

For just a second she wonders, mischievously, how much more teasing it would take before Kaisel decided the ocean was safer company and leapt overboard to try and save himself from her.

Drawing back with a low hum of appreciation, she releases his wrist and lets her tongue sweep leisurely over her lips. "Oh, and you don’t drive a skyship, by the way. You pilot it." She props herself up on one elbow, sun-warmed curls cascading over her shoulder as she pokes him accusingly in the chest. "All I need is for Sohalia to help me nail some aerial manoeuvres, but your stupid cousin—" another playful jab to his shoulder, punctuating each word, "—has been behaving like an idiot and making her sad." It was easier to malign Koa with the sea beneath her and no sign of his copper eyes or boyish smile to make the ache behind her ribs twist sharp again. Easier to let the salt air steal away the weight of their last conversation, to pretend the distance between them wasn't permanently the width of the Arclight. And, contrary though it might be, shamelessly—if harmlessly—flirting with Kaisel helped too. Even if being mostly naked right next to your ex’s cousin wasn’t exactly the kind of plan most people would recommend.

I want to be when you fall on me like night
I wanna kill the lights

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

Kaisel

One foot in the ground
One foot in the grave

Kaisel doesn’t consider that her intentions are to twist him up. She is twisted, most definitely, but he thinks in this case there’s something horrifically wrong with him. Surely a friend would not purposefully flaunt themselves and blur the line so intentionally? Surely.

Unfortunately, this is Flora, not Shirley.

Still, Kaisel opts not to think about it, and definitely won’t say anything about it. Doing either is too risky, promising answers he doesnt want to questions he would rather not ask to begin with. They might sever this friendship in an irreparable way, and like a cut rope that uncoils and frays, so too would the comfort otherwise established between them. So he keeps burying it, his resolve to persevere and maintain his only anchor in the storm of her seduction, playful or not. He may be soaked to the bone, but he will not let himself drown in it, not today at the very least.

Her touch against him is scalding. The heat she’s been stoking, the uncompromising season, it’s all a lick of flame that rakes against his skin, but let it brand him if it must, he’ll take that gentle nudge of companionship over the blooms on her chest.

It cannot be so easy though.

She’s set him alight and simultaneously coaxes his copper stare back to her bosom with a flourish of fingers. His teeth set in agitation, grinding as she twists and turns, the dip of her hip and the depth to which her bottoms clung to it a new temptation to smother.

He snorts at her claim, jaw flexing. ”Surely the Queen of Torchline knows how to stay protected from the sun. Just suggesting, copper turns to crimson real quick. A jolt winds up him as her hand abruptly grips his wrist, and his head jerks back to her, copper caught on aqua. He considers, briefly, shoving the rest of the ice cream in her face. He thinks better of it though, or perhaps just can’t think at all as her tongue traces a shiver through him in tandem with the mango delight. Thankfully she releases him, and he huffs as he crunches through the ice cream and cone, trying to consume all the evidence and remove any future situations.

Then she says something incredulous. A blessed distraction. Not the pilot vs drive bullshit, though that’s almost as ridiculous. No, the part where his cousin is the stupid one. Kaisel can’t hide the look he gives her, like she’s grown a second head on the spot. ”You’re both stupid,” he sputters, and though he doesn’t clarify, he means Koa and Flora. Soh maybe too, but he doesn’t know enough of those details to call her one or the other. He shaked his head, laughing with a hollow sound of disbelief.

At least she had the strength to bring it up. Last time neither of them had, and Kaisel regretted it. He had been there to support what she’d lost, not what he hoped she’d gain, or so he told himself. Mostly he didn’t want to darken the mood by remembering old wounds, that usually set the hurt back in them. He might have launched his cousin’s name as a barrier for them today, and because he didn’t want to be so afraid this time. ”Do you still have feelings for him?” he asks pointedly, leaning his head on his hands as they prop against his knees. No wily tricks of hers now, he wants to see right through her, past her tits, past her jeers, straight into her heart—the truth.

It's not the devil at your door
It's just your shadow on the floor

flora

Flora huffs at his concern, arching a brow as if his suggestion were the most offensive thing she’d heard all day. "Of course I know how to protect myself from the sun," she says, voice laced with exaggerated patience. "Hence the complete and total lack of red." She lifts a shoulder pointedly, flashing a glistening line of sun-kissed skin. If there's any lesson at all to hear how easily copper could slip into a shade far more painful, Flora isn't willing to hear it.

She watches Kaisel practically maul the rest of the sorbet, and a wicked little grin tugs at her lips. It was only fair, honestly—payback for the way he’d hauled her clean off her countertop like she weighed nothing and pinned her against her own kitchen floor, all solid warmth and sharp breath and command. That moment had haunted her. She could still remember the cool tile against her spine, the press of his chest over hers, the stupid sound she’d made when his grip shifted and how easily she'd have let the moment become more. He probably didn’t even realize what he’d done to her, or how often she thought of precisely that moment.

But then the mood shifts like a rug pulled from beneath her, and suddenly she’s the one spiralling.

The question slams into her like a wave, and the effect is immediate. The playfulness drains from her limbs, replaced by something far more vulnerable. Her face flushes, not with heat this time, but shame and guilt, the colour creeping up her cheeks and settling like a bruise across her collarbones. She sits up sharply, arms wrapping around her legs as she tucks them in, crossing her ankles and pressing her knees to her chest—not out of modesty—but to protect herself against the sudden turn of the tide.

"What the hell do I have to do with any of that?" she snaps—not loud, but wounded, the words clipped at the edges. "I made a point of telling both of them that I was happy for them. That I wanted them to be happy together." And, if Flora was one thing, she was sure she was a convincing liar when she had to be. The pain she'd felt in the aftermath of both of those conversations surely was evidence of it.

But then Kaisel laughs, and the sound doesn’t bounce—it cuts. Flora stiffens, chin dropping to rest on the tops of her knees, arms tightening until her knuckles pale against her shins. She chews the inside of her cheek so hard it tastes like copper. There’s a million things she could say to brush it off, to throw the question back at him, to turn it all into another joke—but this time, she doesn’t
.
Because lying to Kaisel doesn't feel like it would make sense. Not when he was asking like that and looking at her the way he was. "Of course I do," she whispers, not looking at him. "You don’t just stop feeling something like that about someone." Her voice catches, raw at the edges. "But it doesn’t matter. With how everything has shaken out...it's either Koa and Sohalia or it's no one, and honestly, it's..." Tilting her head, now it's Flora's turn to watch the migration of an imaginary pod of dolphins. "..for the best, you know? Sohalia is the best. She's good and kind, and," wasn't and would never be all the things Jack had so recently accused Flora of being. "-that's the kind of person he deserves to be with."

Her shoulders curl inward, and the queen of Torchline—the girl who moments ago had commanded the deck with nothing but sun and skin and flirtation—now looks like she’s folding in on herself, quiet and small and grieving something she’d never been allowed to hold.

I want to be when you fall on me like night
I wanna kill the lights

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

Kaisel

One foot in the ground
One foot in the grave

He regrets it as soon as he’s said it. The way she folds in on herself like an old beach chair that just can’t handle the wind anymore. It’s so, unlike her, at least the way he’s always seen her. Her words lash, sharper than any she’s torn him with before, even when he’d foolishly suggested she visit Stormbreak, even when he’d interrupted her night. This came with layers of hurt, layers he just set about to unfurling, like a head of lettuce spilling apart once its stem is removed.

He doesn’t flinch. He can own up to this. So he remains, watching, waiting, the grim line of his lips the only aftereffect of the ice sprouting between them where there had just been flame. He resists the urge to reach out and hold her, to add some warmth back to their space, but he suspects it would isolate her further, in this moment, so Kaisel just reminds himself to breathe as she whispers her reply.

Relief comes with a slow sag to his shoulders. The flex of anticipation waning to understanding and acceptance, even a frail smile. ”I thought so,” he says, grunting as he pushes himself closer to her, leaning his full weight against her side and part of her back. She could hold him or he’ll squish her, either way she will not be rid of him yet, no matter how much she curls up. ”I told Koa as much,” he sighed, stretching his legs out flat, one ankle crossing over the other.

”I don’t know what happened with him and Soh,” Kaisel admits slowly, as if trying to sort out the various thoughts that he could offer as an answer, or rather a theory. ”Maybe knowing you were single too was enough to open up another road and cast some doubt. Even if you didn’t tell him to look down it, he knew it was there, and maybe he wondered.” Kaisel couldn’t say, because Koa had certainly seem pretty convinced that Flora couldn’t be an option if she didn’t light up the path for him. ”Maybe it’s just him wanting something a little less complicated.” Soh was Flora’s best friend, after all, there’d be a twisting of both paths for the foreseeable future. Maybe he just couldn’t trust either of them again, because he’s too stubborn to forgive and forget so easily. ”Maybe he is just, dumb.”

”I just think, you shouldn’t count yourself out of all the pretty things you said about Soh.” Whether for Koa, or someone else, Flora deserved all of that too.

It's not the devil at your door
It's just your shadow on the floor

flora

Flora doesn’t respond right away. She just stares out at the line where sea meets sky, where blue softens into something borderless and far away. The wind lifts one damp curl from her shoulder, lets it fall again. The sun’s still warm on her back, but it might as well be smoke for all the comfort it offers now. Maybe she really will burn, but not from the sun.

And then Kaisel says it: I told Koa as much.

Her head snaps toward him. She stares, wide-eyed, like he’s just told her the stars have been lying all along. "You what?" The words come out too quiet to match her expression, but no less raw. "So—so you’re the reason he’s been acting like the world’s most confused dipshit?" She shoves at his shoulder, weakly. "Gods, Kaisel, you’re the biggest idiot of all." There’s no fire behind it, only disbelief and a bone-deep weariness because fuck as if this fire needed any more gasoline.

As Kaisel nudges himself against her, Flora sips in a breath. She wants to be held, gods, she wants it so badly her fingers twitch against her shins. The ache behind her eyes is sharp and shivery, the kind of grief that doesn’t roar, just seeps, and if she weren’t half-naked, Flora would’ve climbed into Kaisel's lap without a second thought; arms around his neck, cheek to his chest, anchoring herself in something solid. But as it is, her pasties and bikini bottoms don’t leave much room for comfort without consequences no matter the current shift in the tone, and she’s already spent too much energy trying not to complicate things further. So instead, she twists enough to lean into his side, her temple finding the slope of his shoulder, bare arm brushing his.

"It's..I don't know, both more and less complicated," she says quietly. She swallows, voice growing tight. "He told Sohalia he couldn’t just be friends with her because he wanted more. And she—she told him she was in love with him." Flora huffs a laugh that isn’t funny, eyes fixed on the horizon. "They made this whole stupid flower plan of what they were going to wear to signal they were both in. It was this sweet, dumb thing and I thought—I thought it was settled. Stars aligning finally, you know? And then you said something and now he’s… not ready?"

Her voice cracks on the last two words. She bites the inside of her cheek, hard, trying to force the tears back down. "Literally the last time I saw him before all of this he couldn't even look at me he was still so upset about what I did to him."

She looks up at Kaisel then, desperate, pleading. "There’s no road with me, Kai. There can’t be. Not now. If he wants less complicated, he already has it. That’s Sohalia. That’s always been Sohalia." She laughs again, brittle. "I mean, gods. Who hasn’t asked to be in a throuple when they’re seventeen and don’t know what the hell they’re doing? She...gods, she's never hurt people the way I have. Has never hurt him the way I have."

Kai's next words land like sand kicked over something delicate. She exhales slowly, then turns her face away, resting her chin on her knees again. There’s a long pause before she speaks again, this time softer. "There’s a reason Sohalia’s the Luminary. She’s good. She’s kind. You look at her and can just see it. And I…" Flora shrugs one shoulder; she knows exactly what she is, has leaned into it all her life. "I’m the Doubletake. Those names aren't by accident, Kai."

I want to be when you fall on me like night
I wanna kill the lights

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

Kaisel

One foot in the ground
One foot in the grave

”Hey, I don’t deserve all the credit, he can be a dipshit just fine on his own,” Kaisel says with the thinnest of humor in his voice, a fondness for his thick-headed cousin apparent. As she leans back into him as he settles against her, it’s a quiet acknowledgement that she’s okay, even if there’s still a sharper edge to her, the jagged line of something long broken. The pain all these idiots have put themselves through, Kaisel can only sigh at it.

”I don’t know,” Kaisel says after a pause, as her explanation unveils more of the flower plan—aligning with the cryptic mess Koa had mentioned before. ”Do you think the complicated flower thing was all an attempt for him to get ready?” No one can really know since Kaisel did say something, but their conversation hadn’t seemed like one with a man who was certain of anything. Koa was struggling to find a way to live without regret or fear, and with love, especially one that’s already had its unblemished beginning, that just doesn’t seem possible.

Her laugh is like glass splintering, and he cranes his neck around to try and see her better. She’s hidden behind a wash of gold, and he gives up, letting his head rest against hers instead. ”I don’t know about that—she’s definitely hurt him too. That’s what I meant by less complicated...he might be considering neither road he’s already walked down.” Kaisel had suggested as much to him, though he’s certain Koa had already had similar thoughts. ”I don’t think he loves either of you any less, to be honest. But, the trust is gone, and that makes it hard no matter what.” Of course Koa is choosing not to try to trust again, but honestly, it’s such a mess Kaisel doesn’t blame him one bit.

He feels her pull away a bit. She shifts, subtle, but the absence of that minor heat is noticeable. What she says next kicks him in the gut. Flora had never seemed like someone to think so little of herself, and he’s surprised by the fracture in her otherwise overwhelming confidence. Guess that’s what he gets for always ignoring the hard shit with her and sticking with jokes, as if making her laugh is all it takes to erase the hurt. He twines his arm around hers, fingers sliding to fit in the spaces between hers, a quiet offer of strength and affection. ”You have it all wrong Flora,” he insists. ”She might shine, but sometimes the light can hurt your eyes.” His thumb traces a half circle against her hand, earnest in his belief of her. ”And you—Doubletake—you’re impossible to look away from. That’s why all heads turn right back towards you.”

It's not the devil at your door
It's just your shadow on the floor

flora

"Koa’s never been this much of a dipshit before," Flora mutters, picking at a loose thread on the edge of her swim bottoms like it might unravel the whole damn mess if she tugs hard enough. "He does stupid things, sure, but usually with purpose. The flowers, all that…I really thought it was him being bold. Romantic." She sighs, shaking her head, curls falling into her eyes as she recalled the hopelessly sweet and thoughtful things he'd once done for her. "I thought he was buying time to do something big for her. It never even crossed my mind he might’ve been stalling. Why would it?" Her voice dips with bitter amusement. "Wasn’t like I knew you were out here planting chaos."

She draws in a breath, then lets it out slow. "And yeah. Neither of us is uncomplicated, but…" Flora trails off, then shifts enough to glance at Kaisel. "What he’s doing to Sohalia? It’s exactly what I did to him. Only difference is, when I did it, there was someone else. Someone I was already halfway in love with and didn’t know how to say it. He’s doing it for nothing but indecision. And that…" Her voice wobbles before she catches it. "That’s worse. That’s so much worse."

But then Kaisel is shifting, and the arm around hers—the slow tangle of fingers in the spaces between hers—undoes her. Not in the loud, shattering way heartbreak does, but in something quieter. More disarming if only because of the unexpected rush of emotion it provides. Her breath leaves her like he’s stolen it, soft and surprised, her fingers tightening instinctively around his before she even realizes what she’s doing. He speaks, and gods, she wants to believe him. But her insides twist at the word shine.

"Maybe that’s why they invented sunglasses," she says softly, gaze fixed on the horizon. "So people could look at bright things without getting burned."

Her throat works around something she doesn’t say. Jack’s words echo too easily in her head—accusations he’d made that she’d pretended didn’t land. Some of them hadn’t been wrong; she had put the person she loved most at risk. Had risked his secrets for the greater good. Flora shifts again, this time using Kaisel's shoulder to brace herself as she stands, mumbling, "brb."

Her footsteps are light across the deck as she disappears below. When she returns, the Sugar Tide’s sun-drenched queen is dressed down—an oversized, soft cotton shirt slipping off one shoulder and a pair of short-shorts that still leave plenty of leg bare but it's worlds more fabric than she had just been wearing. Her curls are tousled, cheeks flushed not with heat, but something quieter. Sadder.

She approaches him slowly, feet bare against the deck, and holds out her hand. "Can I have a hug?" she asks, voice smaller now, the bravado drained away. Just Flora—sun-kissed and tired, wearing enough clothes to hopefully not make her friend combust, and trying not to fall apart.

I want to be when you fall on me like night
I wanna kill the lights

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

Kaisel

One foot in the ground
One foot in the grave

She's asking him for answers he can't really give. Maybe she should be asking the other cousin all this. Kaisel sighs steadily, wishing he has something better to offer than half-notions muddled with his own ideas. "Isn't it all because of indecision?" he asks carefully, wrinkling his nose as he squints against the sun. "You and Soh still love him, despite leaving him before, so isn't it indecision that lets you love him again, now? He's doing the same, just in fewer steps." He loves them both, so how can he decide? They're each different and fulfill some opposing part of Koa. That's why choosing neither, it might be the best option for his cousin, especially with them wound around each other's lives so tight that'll he be forced to stare down his decision all the time. It's reasonable to walk away, even if you don't want to, but the heart is often unreasonable, so he can't say what Koa will finally pick. He doesn't think Koa can either, not yet.

She squeezes back against his fingers, and he smiles faintly at the visible sign of the pulse beating between them, weak in this moment, but there. I gotchu it says, over and over, each of them there for the other. So he thinks at least, until she grows quiet after the whisper of her continued disagreement, until she shuffles away and leaves suddenly. The hand she slips away from leans further back to hold him up as the support of her departs. He watches after her as she ducks below, wondering what misstep he took. His touch—maybe too intimate? Crossing one line too many, which seems absurd given the state of her undress, but there's something to be said about the comfort of being on display rather than the worry of being handled. Maybe what he said? Blaming her a bit for some of Koa's idiocy, or at least reminding her she plays a part in the chaos, which he's sure she already knows, she doesn't need to hear him say it. Stupid.

Huffing out a breath, he leans back fully on the deck. He pulls his pack over and rifles inside for his bottle of sunscreen. Maybe she won't burn, according to her, but he definitely will. He's only managed to squirt a dab on his hand and rub it once over his nose, pale as Maea's ass, before the motion of her return catches his eye. He strains to tilt his head to see her fully—the Sugar Tide ghost.

She's a wraith floating over to him, and he sits back up to better see her, a quiet concern pulling at the corners of his face. She looks, almost worse than she did that night at the Hanged Man, and in a way he can't quite put his finger on. That night, it'd been obvious, she let the wreckage be visible. This? It feels like she's trying to tuck it away under cotton and sunshine, like she can't bear to keep crying over the same damn thing. "You never have to ask me that," he tells her hand as he reaches for it and jumps up, arms wrapping around her tightly, pulling her against his chest. "It'll always be yes."

It's not the devil at your door
It's just your shadow on the floor

flora

Flora’s lips pressed into a thin line as Kaisel spoke, her brows pulling low behind her lashes. "I don't think it was indecision," she said quietly, but with the sort of certainty that suggested this wasn't the first time she'd had this argument in her own mind. "With me anyway, it was selfishness. Stupid, sugar-drenched selfishness. I thought I could just keep them both in this stretched-out summer where no one asked me for more than I was willing to give. Where everything was easy and perfect with Koa, and where Jack.." Her throat caught around the words she'd never been able to say to anyone; Jack's secret stayed lodged in her throat, slowly choking her the more she tried to breathe around him. "..it's so hard to explain."

She shook her head, curls swaying as she leaned slightly back to meet Kai's gaze. "But the moment I realized I was actually really in love with Jack? I told Koa. I chose. That’s not indecision, Kaisel. That’s..." Her voice softened, bitter and fond all at once. "I dunno, being a bitch I guess." Biting at the inside of her cheek, the queen shook her head. "That’s Koa all over though. Not indecisive, just..too late. Too slow. Too careful until he’s not. That's why I told Sohalia not to wait his stupid two weeks. I told her to tell him right then—sappy flower ceremony be damned—because if she’d said it first..gods if everyone just stopped waiting all the time.." If Soh had done that, maybe she'd have beaten Kaisel to the punch, and then Koa could have just relieved whatever frustration he felt about Flora being single, between her best friend's thighs rather than making a u-turn and blowing up the whole interstate in the process.

As Kaisel rose, arms already outstretched, his easy promises undid her in a way she hadn’t braced for. The hiccup caught in her throat before she could fight it, a single ragged breath that folded into the cartoon shark on his chest as she stepped into him. Flora rose onto her toes, arms winding around his neck, desperate to feel his strength close around her. "Kai, don't—" She couldn’t make herself say don’t promise me anything—not with how her voice trembled at just the thought. But the ache was there, strung tight through her shoulders as she tucked her face beneath his jaw.

It wasn’t the pain of broken promises that scarred her deepest she suddenly realized—it was the guilt of knowing she'd helped shape so many of those good, tender people from being the sorts to promise her forever's and always's, into the ones who spat at her feet, who couldn't meet her gaze, who just left.

I want to be when you fall on me like night
I wanna kill the lights

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

Kaisel

One foot in the ground
One foot in the grave

She's still turning the broken bits into herself. Pressing them until something bleeds like she deserves that shade of red over all the cherry and blush she's otherwise accustomed to. He doesn't respond. Doesn't want to keep adding edges for her to use against herself, because she manages to find a corner even on something he thought time had long dulled. It's a reminder to him that he's poking his nose in business that's out of his depth. He doesn't know the intricacies of their relationships, hell he doesn't even know a sliver of the pain they've all felt or inflicted. He's just a boy on a boat trying to figure out why his friend and his cousin who claim they love each other, can't seem to get over themselves enough to do anything with that love.

Instead, he focuses on the hug. In trying to communicate every ounce of affection he has for her with the squeeze of it. Can she feel it? Every bit of belief and determination that he has that she is more than just every past regret she holds onto?

Kai, don't—

The knot of her arms against his neck is at odds with her choked plea, and he hesitates for a second, pulling back slightly, uncertain what she's asking him to not do. Not hug her? She hugged him back. Not...touch her? Is he about to cross some line again, about to push her into something she can't pull away from, something worse than pasty-covered nipples in the sun? His 'brow furrows, confusion and concern in equal parts seizing him. He's never had to doubt a thing when by her side, but he's never delved into her hardships like this either.

He exhales steadily into her hair and grips her tighter again, just for a moment. Then he sweeps one arm down to grab her under her legs, at the bend of her knee where she couldn't really resist the tug easily, and dropped a bit at the same time, so that as he stood back up he could pull her feet with the movement and sweep her into his arms fully. No resistance permitted. He'll face this shit with her and he'll make sure he pulls her out the other side of it. "Don't do this to yourself," he warns her. "Don't act like you're the source of everything awful. You. Are. Loved. Deeply, by many, and I know you love just as strongly in return."

It's not the devil at your door
It's just your shadow on the floor