marked me like a bloodstain
Pulling out of his grasp because fuck you, Jack, she's going home, Flora shakes her head and continues to stumble on her way. "I don't need to be a mind reader to see the way you roll your eyes at me when I ask you for something beneath you." When she'd asked him for a date, when she'd said she'd wanted to cuddle, basically anytime she'd asked him to care rather than just following a set of mental instructions. Oh, he could deliver well enough, but only because there was something in it for him, the benefit of which almost entirely dictated the amount of fucks he gave.
"Or when I'm too much." Flora continues. "When my thoughts aren't as pretty or pleasurable for you, and the only reason you give a fuck is because it gives you a headache." But yes, Flora did want to be held, and worshipped, and desired and a whole list of other things, but not simply because Jack was able to get off on the way it made her feel as if he were some sort of emotional freeloader.
"Or when I'm too much." Flora continues. "When my thoughts aren't as pretty or pleasurable for you, and the only reason you give a fuck is because it gives you a headache." But yes, Flora did want to be held, and worshipped, and desired and a whole list of other things, but not simply because Jack was able to get off on the way it made her feel as if he were some sort of emotional freeloader.
