you look like my next mistake
Clearing her throat and certainly not wanting to argue the point with Jack—or even really to think about it too hard lest the few remaining pleasant memories she had of Asta between her thighs were corrupted by images of him devouring both of her legs—Flora just hums a noncommital sound and nods.
"Yeah...yeah that actually makes a lot of sense." Rather surprised to find herself thinking how smart the captain was, no sooner had the thought burst like a soap bubble in her mind that the queen was holding up a finger and pointing it at him. "Don't." She warns playfully. "I know you're plenty smart."
Sitting next to him, gods what was with Jack and his fuckin' rocks, Flora happily accepts the bottle (as he knew she would), also taking a fairly long drink if only to clear thoughts of Asta from her mind and blood from her tongue. "Oh right, of course Nate." Rolling her eyes for having forgotten such an obvious one, the queen takes another small sip before handing the captain back the bottle.
"Oh? What was she like?" Flora wonders of his having met Wessex before nudging him with her shoulder. "You know her name." She might have felt a prickle of jealousy too if she thought there was any world at all where Isla would have slept with the captain, mind reader or no. Not that Flora hadn't made a valiant effort in her own right to try and enact the slumber-party-turned-suddenly-more trope with Isla herself.
"Yeah...yeah that actually makes a lot of sense." Rather surprised to find herself thinking how smart the captain was, no sooner had the thought burst like a soap bubble in her mind that the queen was holding up a finger and pointing it at him. "Don't." She warns playfully. "I know you're plenty smart."
Sitting next to him, gods what was with Jack and his fuckin' rocks, Flora happily accepts the bottle (as he knew she would), also taking a fairly long drink if only to clear thoughts of Asta from her mind and blood from her tongue. "Oh right, of course Nate." Rolling her eyes for having forgotten such an obvious one, the queen takes another small sip before handing the captain back the bottle.
"Oh? What was she like?" Flora wonders of his having met Wessex before nudging him with her shoulder. "You know her name." She might have felt a prickle of jealousy too if she thought there was any world at all where Isla would have slept with the captain, mind reader or no. Not that Flora hadn't made a valiant effort in her own right to try and enact the slumber-party-turned-suddenly-more trope with Isla herself.
