This is a drabbly thing, but I hope you all like it :3

All Grown Up

You'd have thought it would have dawned on the professor sooner, having spent four long years with Flora, in which he'd seen her every day... but it hadn't. Up until now, he just had not really noticed.

He hadn't been completely oblivious, however. He had noticed that she'd gotten taller, and that she'd been growing out her hair to a frankly ridiculous length. He had noticed when she'd gotten rid of her signature ponytail with a red ribbon draped around the top it in favour of having her hair loose and natural, her curled fringe gripped up as most girls wore them. He had noticed how she had developed a repertoire of opinions on complicated issues (which she sometimes voiced rather freely) and how she had become a keen explorer of other cultures and languages and the history of places she was yet to see.

He had most definitely noticed when she had started wearing lipstick - bright red lipstick, like the one worn by the ballet teacher who lived in the second floor flat nextdoor - but he had decided to let that go after Emmy had informed him that Flora was only following the fashions she had noticed on other girls, and would almost certainly grow out of the bright red lipstick when everybody else did. Well, it seemed to Layton that every other girl now had, but Flora was, for once, not following every other girl.

Nevertheless, whilst it bothered him to see Flora adopt bright red lips as a new constant, his irritation was blurred by pride in the fact that she was now her own person. She wasn't just the countryside orphan anymore, the girl that had been brought back from the professor's trip to St. Mystere like an alternative souvenir - she was Flora Reinhold. And so many people loved Flora Reinhold.

Strangely, however, there was something that the professor had not noticed until then, when she had waltzed downstairs with a smile on her face, announcing; "I should be getting to work, then!", and bizarrely, it was all these things and more.

Flora had grown up.

She was no longer a bright-eyed, shy stick-of-a-girl, with clouded views and little to show after fifteen years of living, however sheltered her childhood may have been. No, she was not that girl anymore. She was not so easily influenced, not so easily swayed. She was not a girl who would accept limitations without asking why. Flora was nineteen years old. She was intelligent - remarkably intelligent for a girl who had grown up in a village which lacked a school. She knew who she was, what she wanted, how she hoped others would see her. She had plans for the future and looked very much as though those plans would become actions, as she had developed a distinct and impressive drive of determination.

Flora was a woman now.

A woman whom Hershel Layton was eternally grateful to introduce as his adopted daughter.

Very short, but I've had the idea in my head for a while and just decided to get it down ;w;
I have not been here in so long, omg...
ANYWAY~ uploading here will hopefully become habit again!
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