f l o r e n t i n e
Amethyst eyes watch, enraptured, as lines begin to draw themselves across Bexley’s muzzle. Her displeasure lifts Florentine’s lips into a subtle smile, her eyes alight with humour. “I have more, something to rub over the scabs and another for the bruise.”
Bexley’s words drag her mind from puzzling its way through healing remedies and off to a canyon, crowned by a lion king covered in blood from battle. “I know because it’s my job to know.” She says softly, gently. “I am the Dusk Court’s Emissary.” She sighs softly, “I met Maxence after the fight. I am glad you are safe.”
The shy, flirty look remains, gold upon gold, soft skin near soft skin. But all at once, faster than Florentine can blink, faster than she can inhale to find the words help, pain slips its way across Bexley’s face. The Sun Girl’s eyes glimmer, humour there, but it has a bitterness to it that leaves a twinge in Flora’s heart. She might have smiled, might have brushed off Bexley’s comment with a touch, with a caress and a flirty comment. But before Flora can, Bexley continues, her voice lower, her eyes suspicious and then there is the flash of unhappy teeth.
Such a moment, such a smile sends the twilight girl crashing back to a moonlit night with Reichenbach, to a part of her that has not felt right since. Her heart begins to race, a gazelle across the plain, frightened of this dawning reality that stalks after her like a lion.
“I am not using you.” She says, too softly, too unsure. What was this she had between Bexley, between Reichenbach? Oh She could tell Bexley she is not using her and it would be truth, in part. She was not using her for her looks, of that she was sure. But she could not lie to this girl of gilded gold and tell her she was not using her, that she was different when she was so wildly afraid she was using her.
New feelings stalked her, alien, unwanted but so glorious. She did not even know what Bexley was to her except a girl she craved to be with, in whose company she found joy.
All too soon Florentine felt too young, too unsure, awash at sea with this maelstrom of feelings that were beginning to rise within her. There was no girl for her to talk to, none but Rannveig, her queen, her sister. It was all happening too soon… The twilight girl had been hoping to speak to Rannveig but here she was forced into this moment, dragged into searching her own heart. If only she knew what she was looking at or for.
“I want you to know there is a boy.” The girl begins, tremulous, fearful, lost. “From another court… we can’t be together…” She fades off, unsure what to say or how to say it, for how can she when even her heart does not even know? When even the Night King had no answer for what was happening between them!
Her tongue feels too small to carry the heavy weight of these words and she cannot bear to look at Bexley, cannot bear to see what here eyes might hold.
“I enjoy being with you Bexley, I need you. But I don’t know what I can offer you.” She might laugh at herself, at her declaration, was she not so young, so utterly lost. What she did know was that to lose Bexley and never have Reichenbach might surely kill her.
“I don’t know what this is with us but, I need you.” She whispers to the waters, to the sun, to the girl who sits across from her. “In whatever way I can have you, please… I – I love you, but it’s not the same as how I feel with him. I have to tell you. I-“ She trails off for the seeping dawn of horror. The agony of realization creeps upon her and it is red and black and hot. But it is glorious and welcoming and wonderful too.
She was in love with the Night King, but she needed Bexley too. Never had Florentine felt so wretched, never so unsure.
Flora’s eyes lift up for the inferno, seeking Bexley’s eyes of crystal blue.
@Bexley
this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
Bexley’s words drag her mind from puzzling its way through healing remedies and off to a canyon, crowned by a lion king covered in blood from battle. “I know because it’s my job to know.” She says softly, gently. “I am the Dusk Court’s Emissary.” She sighs softly, “I met Maxence after the fight. I am glad you are safe.”
The shy, flirty look remains, gold upon gold, soft skin near soft skin. But all at once, faster than Florentine can blink, faster than she can inhale to find the words help, pain slips its way across Bexley’s face. The Sun Girl’s eyes glimmer, humour there, but it has a bitterness to it that leaves a twinge in Flora’s heart. She might have smiled, might have brushed off Bexley’s comment with a touch, with a caress and a flirty comment. But before Flora can, Bexley continues, her voice lower, her eyes suspicious and then there is the flash of unhappy teeth.
Such a moment, such a smile sends the twilight girl crashing back to a moonlit night with Reichenbach, to a part of her that has not felt right since. Her heart begins to race, a gazelle across the plain, frightened of this dawning reality that stalks after her like a lion.
“I am not using you.” She says, too softly, too unsure. What was this she had between Bexley, between Reichenbach? Oh She could tell Bexley she is not using her and it would be truth, in part. She was not using her for her looks, of that she was sure. But she could not lie to this girl of gilded gold and tell her she was not using her, that she was different when she was so wildly afraid she was using her.
New feelings stalked her, alien, unwanted but so glorious. She did not even know what Bexley was to her except a girl she craved to be with, in whose company she found joy.
All too soon Florentine felt too young, too unsure, awash at sea with this maelstrom of feelings that were beginning to rise within her. There was no girl for her to talk to, none but Rannveig, her queen, her sister. It was all happening too soon… The twilight girl had been hoping to speak to Rannveig but here she was forced into this moment, dragged into searching her own heart. If only she knew what she was looking at or for.
“I want you to know there is a boy.” The girl begins, tremulous, fearful, lost. “From another court… we can’t be together…” She fades off, unsure what to say or how to say it, for how can she when even her heart does not even know? When even the Night King had no answer for what was happening between them!
Her tongue feels too small to carry the heavy weight of these words and she cannot bear to look at Bexley, cannot bear to see what here eyes might hold.
“I enjoy being with you Bexley, I need you. But I don’t know what I can offer you.” She might laugh at herself, at her declaration, was she not so young, so utterly lost. What she did know was that to lose Bexley and never have Reichenbach might surely kill her.
“I don’t know what this is with us but, I need you.” She whispers to the waters, to the sun, to the girl who sits across from her. “In whatever way I can have you, please… I – I love you, but it’s not the same as how I feel with him. I have to tell you. I-“ She trails off for the seeping dawn of horror. The agony of realization creeps upon her and it is red and black and hot. But it is glorious and welcoming and wonderful too.
She was in love with the Night King, but she needed Bexley too. Never had Florentine felt so wretched, never so unsure.
Flora’s eyes lift up for the inferno, seeking Bexley’s eyes of crystal blue.
@
★ She is clothed with strength and dignity,
and she laughs without fear of the future ★
