22. Midnight #2
“I can’t tell you everything will be okay.
I don’t know that,” she said. She wasn’t skilled at summoning hope—with Noec around, she never had to be.
Flora was no optimist, though what she said next, she said for certain: “What I do know is I’m not leaving your side.
I’ll only ever leave you in the dust on my way to the red fence post.”
Noec chuckled, and a tear fell. He watched her hand, squeezing tight as his brow furrowed.
“You did good today,” Flora said, gently blotting his cheek. He smiled at her touch.
“You did good too, Pixie,” he replied.
“We got through today together—minute by minute,” Flora said. She lifted his hand and returned the gentle kiss he’d given her earlier. “Tomorrow, we’ll do it again.”
Noec met her eyes and smiled softly. “Thank you,” he said. “I know I need to stay positive.” Lightly, he rested his head on hers. “Nothing makes that easy like you do.”
Flora breathed a chuckle, her fingers idly tracing his. For a few minutes, they waded in quiet bliss. Faintly, she smiled, memorizing the marks of his hands as though they were hers to keep. She looked up, and he met her eyes like he knew.
He smiled, but his smile felt like a vision of heartbreak.
“Tell me something about you,” he murmured. “Something I don’t know.”
Flora inhaled uneasily. She bit her tongue, but the words were already there in her throat.
Hadn’t she already felt what awaited—the torment of running out of time, of knowing she had missed her chance?
We all die in the end, Sona would say to her. Don’t die without having lived.
Tonight could be all they had, and Flora wouldn’t let a moment go to waste.
She blinked up, and Noec met her with gentle eyes, brow creased just barely like he couldn’t help but mirror the worry on her face. Flora smiled softly, blessed by the sight of him, and he smiled too.
“Think of something?” he asked, leaning back against the wall as he rested his eyes.
“Yeah.” Flora leaned back too, then took a slow, deep breath. “I… always hoped that one day you would be mine,” she said. “Truly and completely mine.”
The words escaped from her chest, and Noec’s hand stiffened in hers.
He gave no response, still as the winter at her side.
Heavy and suffocating, the air grew colder between them, each second longer than the last. As the silence carved deeper, Flora’s heart began to ache like it was bleeding.
All she needed was his word to stop it—but while Noec’s breath seemed to waver, his reassurance never came.
“I... I need some air,” he finally said. He huffed something like a laugh, and the sound was almost enough to break her. Noec slipped his hand from hers and stood. “I’m going to take a minute in the courtyard.”
Flora nodded, but she couldn’t meet his eyes. She watched him disappear down the dim hallway, the flickering light of the oil lamps casting shadows that blurred his retreating figure.
Numbness spread through her as she rocked her head back against the wall, staring up at the intricate patterns on the ceiling.
Her chest tightened, regret clawing at her.
She felt the sting of vulnerability, the bitter aftertaste of words she couldn’t take back.
But as deeply as she was embarrassed, she was even more proud of her courage.
“You did good,” she whispered into the quiet. A shaky breath left her lungs, and for the first time, it didn’t hurt to breathe. Whatever came next, at least he knew.
Flora stumbled into her guest room and let herself collapse onto the bed.
The peach-colored wall seemed all too cheerful, and the gold and white of the bed beneath her was an unwelcome softness against her stiff body.
Grinding her teeth, she wrestled with the familiar urge to run, run as far as she could.
Too accustomed to falling asleep fully dressed, she stayed as she was in her Earth attire, bag across her shoulder and shoes still on, letting exhaustion pull her into an uneasy rest. For the first time ever, she closed her eyes breathing the cool, fresh air of Emyre and began to fall asleep.
A sharp knock at the door jolted her awake. Her eyes shot open, and she gasped, disoriented. Clumsily, she stumbled to her feet, hastily smoothing her hair and rubbing her eyes to chase away the remnants of sleep. After a moment to collect herself, she swung the door open.
Standing there was Noec, grinning from ear to ear, a vibrant bouquet of flowers clutched in his hands—autumn blooms plucked from the moat surrounding the courtyard. His voice was steady, yet brimming with warmth.
“Florabelle Fray,” he said. “I’ve belonged to you from the very start.”
Breathless, Flora stared in shock at the kaleidoscope of colors in his hands and their reflection in his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he grinned slightly. “But I had to do this right.” Noec pushed the flowers into Flora’s hands but didn’t let go. His other hand came to the side of her neck, thumb brushing softly against her cheek.
“The queen is going to kill you…” Flora murmured, but when she looked up into those striking emerald eyes, she was completely at his mercy.
“I don’t care,” he muttered, low and steady.
Helpless. She was helpless.
And in that moment, helpless was everything she wanted to be.
In a single, disarming motion, Noec leaned in, his lips barely brushing hers. “Pixie,” he breathed, and she tasted his voice on her tongue as his fingers wove into the back of her hair. “May I?—”
“Kiss me,” Flora whispered, her voice trembling.
Finally, he kissed her—gentle at first, then deeper, more desperate. Flora’s heartbeat stumbled, her breath faltering as the world seemed to dissolve around them. Noec’s kiss held her captive like a spell, stretching into an eternity and collapsing into an instant all at once.
The flowers tumbled to the ground with a soft rustle.
Drawn back to reality by the sound, they pulled apart, and their eyes met once more. His gentle gaze lingered on hers and, in the pale light, his soft golden hair looked soft enough to run her fingers through.
He looked almost shocked, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
“What?” Flora asked, her voice light, though her stomach fluttered wildly.
Noec’s mouth opened, then closed as though searching for words. Finally, he managed, “You seem impossible. Once I’ve looked into your eyes, it hurts to look away.”
Flora felt the same, utterly mesmerized by the sight of him, every detail of his face etched in her mind like a memory of a dream she would desperately try to hold on to.
He kissed her again, this time softer, and then wrapped her in a tight embrace.
The warmth of him, the way his arms held her so close—it was overwhelming in the most wonderful way.
She closed her eyes, sealing the moment in her memory with a silent vow.
No matter what tomorrow brings, this moment was theirs.
“Goodnight, Pixie,” Noec whispered, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead before letting her go.
Gently, he tilted her chin up to face him one more time.
Noec smiled, lips teasingly just out of reach.
One hand tugged lightly at her clothes, while the fingers of his other traced from her chin to her lip.
He bent down, retrieved the fallen bouquet, and placed it back in her hands.
“Sweet dreams, Noec,” she replied, a childlike grin spreading across her face.
As he turned and stepped into his room, he glanced back with a dizzy smirk, with mischief on his lips and affection in his eyes.
Flora closed her door, warmth still pulsing in her chest. She stared for a moment, processing in disbelief. But the taste of him was still on her tongue, and there were stolen flowers in her hands.
Flora kicked off her shoes with a dramatic sigh, hung up her bag, and traded her pants for the flowy nightgown left neatly hung by the door for her.
Sliding beneath the soft white blankets, she embraced the quiet of the room and the gentle breeze through the window, smiling softly as she peeked at the flowers on the nightstand.
From the other side of the hall, she faintly heard Heron’s voice as he joined Noec in their room. Her smile grew as she held Noec’s image in her mind, the joyful memory of his whistling slowly softening into a lullaby, a welcome distraction that kept her fears at bay.
Flora closed her eyes and, for the first time in twelve years, she dreamed.
She dreamt of a demon with yellow eyes—but then the demon looked like Davy, and then they were suddenly both running from a CGI velociraptor. And just when they’d finally escaped, Flora’s teeth started falling out because Lila put glitter in the soup.
Flora opened her eyes and felt for her teeth.
“What…?” she mumbled.
But that night, Flora dreamed sweeter dreams too. She dreamt of peering down from the clouds over rolling autumn hills, and of running toward the red fence post on a bright summer day. Yet through every dream, one constant stayed—the quiet presence of her green-eyed guardian angel.
“Good morning, Flora. How did you sleep?” Nia said, greeting her bright and early at the door, elegant and pristine as though she rolled out of bed with her hair freshly combed and braided.
“I haven’t slept in twelve years, Nia,” Flora replied. “The bar is pretty low.”
Aonia’s wake-up call came with a summons to a formal breakfast. Flora, wholly incapable of telling yesterday’s jeans from proper attire, attempted to join the others as she was.
Aonia, barely masking her exasperation, promptly sent her back to the room.
Moments later, the princess returned with a disgruntled attendant and a pale yellow dress.
“No,” Flora said flatly. “Absolutely not.”
The attendant glared at Flora with more spite than seemed reasonable at the ass-crack of dawn. Flora blinked and closed the door just a fraction more.
Aonia cleared her throat and wedged her shoe in the door. “Flora,” she started, “this is Darla. Darla is good at… dresses.”
Flora raised a brow. “I can do… ‘dresses’.”