marked me like a bloodstain
Shivering in her sleep as goosebumps ripple out across her flesh thanks to the welcome winds of Jack's magic, the Doubletake fights against the wakefulness that tries to nip at her heels. Groggy enough to be mostly unaware of her surroundings but not so far gone that the possibility of waking to an empty bed doesn't weigh heavily on her mind, Flora nuzzles her face against the crook of Jack's neck, one hand still over his heart as if in some subconscious attempt to anchor herself to the beating of his heart.
Eventually, though, wakefulness does impose itself fully upon the Doubletake, and as she blinks sleep from her eyes, the first thing she sees is the rise and fall of the captain's chest. It's hard not to love him for it—for staying—all the more so when it was so against his nature. Ignoring the foolish urge to offer him the world for this simple act of kindness, instead Flora just shifts somewhat against him in order to rest her chin against his chest, peering up at him (up his nose, given the angle), overcome with a gentle flush of joy at how absurdly domestic it seemed to wake with the captain in her bed. "Morning."
Eventually, though, wakefulness does impose itself fully upon the Doubletake, and as she blinks sleep from her eyes, the first thing she sees is the rise and fall of the captain's chest. It's hard not to love him for it—for staying—all the more so when it was so against his nature. Ignoring the foolish urge to offer him the world for this simple act of kindness, instead Flora just shifts somewhat against him in order to rest her chin against his chest, peering up at him (up his nose, given the angle), overcome with a gentle flush of joy at how absurdly domestic it seemed to wake with the captain in her bed. "Morning."
