you look like my next mistake
There aren't many situations wherein the Doubletake enjoys being told what to do, but it's a perfect storm of childhood trauma and recent rejection that has Flora all too eager to do just as she's told. Her mind fills the spaces between their bodies with thoughts of clever fingers that boast chunky rings clasped around her throat, of eyes too sharp and focused to belong to anything other than a predator, of what it felt like to be wanted by a man who wanted for little else.
Tangling her fingers into his hair to redirect his lips from the inside of her thigh, Flora's heel digs into his back as she slides her leg further onto his shoulder.
That Jack was in love with her was not what the queen was immediately interested in, but rather the possibility of it. Further, she was enough of a realist to know that where once she'd yearned for a love that was golden and brimming with the warmth of daylight (Koa), it could come in other shades as well. So it was that as she let her eyes slip closed, she filled both of their minds with a love that was maroon: a hand around her mouth to keep her quiet as Jack fucked her in some closet or other merely because the inclination stole over him; of fingernails dirty with blood as they tucked an errant curl behind her ear before pouring her a glass of wine; of common goals and mutually assured destruction that held them together with a vow more sacred than a few words and golden bands.
Tangling her fingers into his hair to redirect his lips from the inside of her thigh, Flora's heel digs into his back as she slides her leg further onto his shoulder.
That Jack was in love with her was not what the queen was immediately interested in, but rather the possibility of it. Further, she was enough of a realist to know that where once she'd yearned for a love that was golden and brimming with the warmth of daylight (
