I think you’ll find

JACK

see me falling
yeah, down and lonely

"Flora." Her name leaves the captain's lips with a rough and uncharacteristic warning, and though Jack raises his eyebrows at the Doubletake, there's a knowing sort of wickedness in his eyes that can only come from approval. And thus perhaps Torchline's queen will realise she holds more cards in her hands than ever before, even if it's at a sacrifice of her private thoughts.

Indeed, as they step into the House of Midnight and Flora engages one of the staff about the room, the red haze of her thoughts is as irresistible as it ever has been, and as the worker checks their books for an appropriate room for them to use (Longnight is busy, but this is the owners' daughter after all), the Doubletake will suddenly find Jack flush against her back.

"I'll take that whiskey," he mumbles against the shell of her ear - the one from her thoughts, he means. She'll need to be responsible for ordering it, however; the captain's mouth is now busy writing his name against her throat, his hands greedily unbuttoning her jacket to find their way beneath it, cupping a breast and guiding her hips back against him.

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