never be so kind you forget to be clever
Laughing genuinely, Flora gives her head a shake. “Temper? Oh you haven’t seen anything yet.” She trills, sounding almost proud of having inherited her mother’s penchant for wild and unpredictable acts of violence. And then, because he’d left the door so very open for it, the girl adds: “Who says I’m wearing any?” She wonders, of her knickers and whether or not they were twisted, before sashaying through the open door with a, “ Thank you”
Scrunching her nose up at the sky and making a mental note to get herself sunglasses or a big floppy hat—or both— Flora shakes her head. “You think with my dad being who he is, I haven’t been warned about wasting their time?” She grins. “No, I have something in mind.” And she did. Something wicked and cutting and perhaps a touch surprising; not that it would come as a surprise to Jack, though. “A notebook that writes down all the nice things people are saying about me. What do you think?” Flora lies, batting her eyelashes at Jack and grinning. Flora was not so naive that she hadn’t realized what having inherited her mother and father’s good looks would mean for her, and what the world in turn would assume about her.
Scrunching her nose up at the sky and making a mental note to get herself sunglasses or a big floppy hat—or both— Flora shakes her head. “You think with my dad being who he is, I haven’t been warned about wasting their time?” She grins. “No, I have something in mind.” And she did. Something wicked and cutting and perhaps a touch surprising; not that it would come as a surprise to Jack, though. “A notebook that writes down all the nice things people are saying about me. What do you think?” Flora lies, batting her eyelashes at Jack and grinning. Flora was not so naive that she hadn’t realized what having inherited her mother and father’s good looks would mean for her, and what the world in turn would assume about her.
