your touch brought forth an incandescent glow, tarnished but so grand
Not wanting to turn a relatively pleasant (cold and early mornings, aside) moment into something made weighty by having unintentionally stumbled onto a more serious topic, nevertheless Flora feels the familiar sinking feeling that often accompanies these sorts of talks. It isn't a feeling of hopelessness per se, but instead a strange sort of weightlessness that makes her feel like nothing at all. Swallowing, the queen leans back against Jack's chest from where she'd inadvertently straightened. Sighing softly and sinking into the warm familiar press of him around her, Flora smiles softly and nods. "Yeah, you would." She murmurs, taking some comfort in the fact that if an offer of that calibre ever was made, at least she'd not be able to say she was blindsided by it.
Snorting, Flora cheerfully elbows the captain back. "Keep it up and I'm going to put ice cubes in your bed." She threatens wickedly despite knowing how little it'd probably effect Jack. "Or maybe I'll replace all your rum with snow." Now that was a therat.
"Ah!" Gasping out her offence, the queen tilts her chin indignantly into the air and huffs out a breath. "I'm very good at pretending I'll have you know." And, given how many years she did nothing but basically play pretend while in his presence, Jack should know. "Oh right." Twisting in order to sit perpendicular against him with her long legs curled around one of his and her shoulder against his chest, Flora smirks up at him. "All over my floating city they'll call you Jack Barclay, the True Sight, or Jack Barclay, the Golden Heart." Said like it was some sort of slur, the Doubletake lifts her chin a touch. Her hands were too cold to pull them from the blankets to tangle into Jack's hair, so instead she let her mind do the work for her: kiss me.
Snorting, Flora cheerfully elbows the captain back. "Keep it up and I'm going to put ice cubes in your bed." She threatens wickedly despite knowing how little it'd probably effect Jack. "Or maybe I'll replace all your rum with snow." Now that was a therat.
"Ah!" Gasping out her offence, the queen tilts her chin indignantly into the air and huffs out a breath. "I'm very good at pretending I'll have you know." And, given how many years she did nothing but basically play pretend while in his presence, Jack should know. "Oh right." Twisting in order to sit perpendicular against him with her long legs curled around one of his and her shoulder against his chest, Flora smirks up at him. "All over my floating city they'll call you Jack Barclay, the True Sight, or Jack Barclay, the Golden Heart." Said like it was some sort of slur, the Doubletake lifts her chin a touch. Her hands were too cold to pull them from the blankets to tangle into Jack's hair, so instead she let her mind do the work for her: kiss me.
