She had expected only one. She had asked for only one. But after the third, when he keeps looking for more, her brows become furrowed, confusion seeping into her lilac eyes.
The Dawn boy finds more and more and more flowers. Florentine is delighted, despite this wave of confusion that grows and grows. Myriads of flowers now bloom in her mane. No longer are they merely lilac and orange, but red and yellow, green and pink. All adorn her in chorus of colours as the ebony boy studiously twines yet more into the snarls of her hair.
“You mock me…” The Dusk girl says as Only brings still more to her hair, and yet, willing to be the subject of his mirth, her smile still broad for the humour of being so adorned in flowers, she lowers her head to receive them. “I shall not be able to move for flowers when you are done. Is that your ploy?” The flower girl asks, her head tilting as she gazes at him from the corner of an amethyst eye. “To adorn me so in flowers that I cannot move? And have me accosted by bees and birds?”
Her mane is heavy so laden with flowers that even her loose curls not are falling straight. A bee swoops in, lingering near a daisy and landing upon a rose before ultimately perching upon her nose. The girl falls as still as stone, her eyes wide as she gazes down her nose to the small creature. “If I get stung, you are in so much trouble.” She whispers, her voice sweet, her threat palpable, even as her lips barely move - lest she disturb the insect upon her nose.
Only mentions the sunset and her lashes rise as her gaze lifts to the sky, the bee momentarily forgotten as she squints through the veil of honey and flowers, flowers, flowers, flowers. When at last the creature disembarks, the flower girl sighs, relieved, “Oh, good, I was not looking forward to having a swollen nose.”
She thinks of the chaos it would bring, for who could take an Emissary seriously when her nose was as big as her forehead? But worst of all, she would have to avoid Reichenbach. Whilst the girl was not one to dwell upon her looks, having a large, swollen nose was, even for her, too embarrassing to even contemplate – especially when around a boy one hopes to appear pretty before... A blush colours her cheeks, as she shifts, suddenly uncharacteristically shy and awkward.
Her eyes lift at last to Only, and she was not sure how long they were looking at her feet before they did... “I suppose a swollen nose would make up for being poisoned by flowers though.” Her smile is playful, sly, as she steers her thoughts on from thoughts of the Night King, for fear her wounded heart may begin to ache.
“How long do you think until poison sets in?” She asks, contemplating the boy before her. “I think you might be okay now…” And it is effort just to clear her mind of stars and darkness and kings of night.
Florentine takes a fluttering breath, her heart beating too fast within her chest, but she continues blithely on, “Oh, after dark I just go to bed, usually. It’s hard adventuring through the day, you know.” Her gaze is factual, mischievous as she toys with him so, “You are welcome to join me, but you would have to sleep on the floor, and I warn you, I snore, terribly.” Her laugh is impish as she turns toward the setting sun, dusk light cocooning her slender body. “Come if you wish!”
@
★ She is clothed with strength and dignity,
and she laughs without fear of the future ★
