like waves in the sea

Flora

"Yeah?" Flora asks, sounding hopeful. The flicker of a smile that touches her lips disappears as she glances over her shoulder and up at Ronin, spying his sadness and the permanent markers of his grief. A small and black voice whispers in the back of her mind that Ronin has already had two daughters, and that she's too late to ever receive any of his love. That he'll shrug at her grave one day and always be a third, fourth, or even fifth afterthought in his mind.

'Okay.' Trying to keep her own sadness from weighing her voice down lest he think her selfish for making this moment about her, Flora does her best to brighten. "Can your cloud carry our things? I don't want to break the brooch in case I trip."

these f a i r y  t a l e s
of science