this is drowning

your touch brought forth an incandescent glow, tarnished but so grand

"No you aren't." Comes the reply from outside the door, and had Flora been wearing shoes, she'd have given it a kick for good measure if only to try and gesture at the normalcy she so craved just now. Instead, she nudges the door with both her hip and her elbow, finally managing to jostle it open only to see Jack standing with a knife in one hand, and holding a towel around his waist with the other.

Stumbling inside, Flora sets the water heavily down on the floor of Jack's cabin—as Amhran recently once said, anything can get quite heavy if you hold it for long enough, especially when you've gone for a run, gotten into a weird argument with your not-boyfriend, fought for your life beneath the hot fucking sun, were exploded on by a giant cat and then had to walk halfway across the city. "Jack" Flora's voice breaks around his name, the healing water having removed whatever remaining dregs of mascara she'd once been wearing leaving her eyes impossibly round and blue as she drank him in, her panic and concern bleeding into relief.

"I..." She'd have stayed with the captain, had it been her choice. Would have limped to the fountain with him were it not for her father's carrying her off (and yes, she knew that she was the one who called them and they were the ones who ultimately saved their asses, but never mind). "I was so worried about you—" The words are out before she realizes that—"I'm busy"—he might not want her around, not if he'd tried to head her off before she was even in the room.

"I...I brought you.."