never be so kind you forget to be clever
If she didn't know Jack well enough by now, Flora might have pointed out that he'd done a fair amount of grumbling and glaring for a man who'd enjoyed himself. But it was just as much in his nature to be surly and difficult as it was in Flora's to be playful, such that she only shrugged against him. "No, but that doesn't mean you'd not be a shit about it on principle." She chuckles.
Shivering as she's reduced to just her underwear, as it always does, the feel of Jack's body pressed against her has something inside of Flora growing impossibly weak and threatening to break with the force of her sudden need for him. Whether it's her age or just Jack—possibly a combination of the two—that has the queen almost instantly undone by the smallest amount of intimacy from the captain, with nothing more than his breath against her neck, the rose-gold wrapped around her thoughts that might have had Flora wanting soft caresses and sweet nothings whispered into her ears are immediately engulfed in flames, leaving only cinders in the shape of handprints against her skin.
"Sometimes," Flora agrees, and though towering aspens and conifers burst to life in her mind, they fade almost immediately as she stumbles toward the bed. Twisting, the back of her knees pressed against the mattress, the queen reaches up to pull the elastic free from her hair, allowing her curls to tumble down her shoulders in golden waves that she knew from having practiced in front of a mirror looked every bit as cinematic as she'd intended it to. "Maybe one day we can go if they ever clear out the void. I can show you where I was born."
Shivering as she's reduced to just her underwear, as it always does, the feel of Jack's body pressed against her has something inside of Flora growing impossibly weak and threatening to break with the force of her sudden need for him. Whether it's her age or just Jack—possibly a combination of the two—that has the queen almost instantly undone by the smallest amount of intimacy from the captain, with nothing more than his breath against her neck, the rose-gold wrapped around her thoughts that might have had Flora wanting soft caresses and sweet nothings whispered into her ears are immediately engulfed in flames, leaving only cinders in the shape of handprints against her skin.
"Sometimes," Flora agrees, and though towering aspens and conifers burst to life in her mind, they fade almost immediately as she stumbles toward the bed. Twisting, the back of her knees pressed against the mattress, the queen reaches up to pull the elastic free from her hair, allowing her curls to tumble down her shoulders in golden waves that she knew from having practiced in front of a mirror looked every bit as cinematic as she'd intended it to. "Maybe one day we can go if they ever clear out the void. I can show you where I was born."
