f l o r e n t i n e
She watches as emotions and thoughts flit across the dusk boy’s face. He flounders, his eyes so wide they become windows to the sea of confusion he finds himself within. Flora’s words are the waves, heavy and relentless, albeit harmless, even as they pull him this way and that.
Florentine’s ability to be quite so talkative, was both a blessing and a curse. In this moment, with a boy so utterly stupefied beneath the onslaught of her monologue, the dusk girl realized that it was indeed a curse.
Her lashes lower to her feet that, dirtied and slender, shift awkwardly in the damp foliage. She longs to pick through the feelings and thoughts, that tangle and twist their way through his addled brain. Had she offended him? Or was she merely too forward? It had never been an issue to the twilight girl before, and yet it does not stop the embarrassment from twining itself tightly through her abdomen.
When Auru speaks at last, she welcomes the words with bright amethyst eyes. Her gaze drinks in his face, the curl and dance of his lips as they form each word. She forgets that he ever spoke before, that he ever questioned what she had been saying, for he answers her at last.
His words are small, a paltry amount given how many she has shared with him, yet his name beckons a smile from her lips and the easing of her rosy blush. “I do not have a surname, Auru Geniven.” She whispers, quite enviously. It seemed like such a mythical thing, such a lavish thing for one to be in possession of a surname. For a girl born in myth and mystery, she hungers for one of her own.
The fruit lies forgotten at her feet, though its taste still plays upon her tongue even as she moves to draw his name upon his skin. She dresses him with it, just to see how well it fits. “I think it serves you well.” Flora adds gently and wonders what her own might be, had she been born to different parents, a different world away.
Her mouth opens, to ask another question, to comment, to converse yet further. But before words can tumble from her lips, her mouth snaps shut. She says nothing, eyes trailing the rise and fall of his raised brow, cocky, yet shy. With a dip of her head, she allows the silence to reign, allows it to sink between them, waiting for him to shatter it with his own words.
@Auru gosh i am so sorry for the museless drivel :( <3 <3
this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
Florentine’s ability to be quite so talkative, was both a blessing and a curse. In this moment, with a boy so utterly stupefied beneath the onslaught of her monologue, the dusk girl realized that it was indeed a curse.
Her lashes lower to her feet that, dirtied and slender, shift awkwardly in the damp foliage. She longs to pick through the feelings and thoughts, that tangle and twist their way through his addled brain. Had she offended him? Or was she merely too forward? It had never been an issue to the twilight girl before, and yet it does not stop the embarrassment from twining itself tightly through her abdomen.
When Auru speaks at last, she welcomes the words with bright amethyst eyes. Her gaze drinks in his face, the curl and dance of his lips as they form each word. She forgets that he ever spoke before, that he ever questioned what she had been saying, for he answers her at last.
His words are small, a paltry amount given how many she has shared with him, yet his name beckons a smile from her lips and the easing of her rosy blush. “I do not have a surname, Auru Geniven.” She whispers, quite enviously. It seemed like such a mythical thing, such a lavish thing for one to be in possession of a surname. For a girl born in myth and mystery, she hungers for one of her own.
The fruit lies forgotten at her feet, though its taste still plays upon her tongue even as she moves to draw his name upon his skin. She dresses him with it, just to see how well it fits. “I think it serves you well.” Flora adds gently and wonders what her own might be, had she been born to different parents, a different world away.
Her mouth opens, to ask another question, to comment, to converse yet further. But before words can tumble from her lips, her mouth snaps shut. She says nothing, eyes trailing the rise and fall of his raised brow, cocky, yet shy. With a dip of her head, she allows the silence to reign, allows it to sink between them, waiting for him to shatter it with his own words.
@Auru gosh i am so sorry for the museless drivel :( <3 <3
★ She is clothed with strength and dignity,
and she laughs without fear of the future ★
