I think you’ll find

JACK

see me falling
yeah, down and lonely

There's no spark of concern or sorrow or any other negative emotion that join Flora's tears, and so she can keep them as far as Jack is concerned. (And let's be honest, it's only in the past few hours that he'd have felt it necessary to do something if he had felt a twang of upset in her thoughts). Instead, with a rough laugh to hear the curse slip from her lips, the captain draws back enough to shrug at her, because he already did, Flora - you were there.

Beneath them the sheets grow plush and silken, and Jack is already half prepared to peel himself away from the Doubletake and half anticipating the words she eventually says, enough so that it's with a groan of reluctant acceptance that he shifts to lay back in the sheets. Whatever, he might have said, or don't get used to it, only neither of those things are apt or true in this instance. This is uncharted territory, in this sailboat bed, and Jack tucks his arms behind his head to let Flora glue herself against his side.

are the angels on their way?
i’m in the dirt

you look like my next mistake

"Shut up, Jack." Flora hums breezily as if hearing his thoughts—though really, the resigned sag of his shoulders and his groan said enough—but honestly, the Doubletake didn't give a fuck.

Tucking herself against him as she'd never been able to before, Flora's fingers trickle nonsensical cursive phrases across his chest. She's too tired to care much about pillow talk, so the captain will be spared questions of what is this scar from? or wHaT ARe We? Instead, she simply tugs the sheets over them before comfortably nestling herself once more into the crook of his arm.

Thinking not of the conversations they'd had that day or what it meant for the future, Flora turns her thoughts to the sound of Vai's voice and lets the witch's folksy refrains paint sweet greens and blues behind her closed eyes until she'd fallen into a deep and boneless sleep.

~FIN