we write out the ends on our palms, then forget to read
"Oh I see." Flora says with a roll of her eyes. "So if I left one of those warm caterpillar things from the Climb in your bed, that'd be just as good as me, huh?"
Flora is an everything sort of gal, Jack, a polyglot when it comes to love languages if you will.
Unsurprised to feel the captain's hands and lips upon her before he opted to speak—he had fucked her out on the ice before saying thank you for the feather, after all—the queen nevertheless melts against him. Her tongue chases his, however slowly, as if she might be able to pin down the sudden warm flush of affection that she can feel from him. When they part, the warmth Flora feels has little to do with the hot springs, and had the first words out of Jack's mouth not been a surprising I'll miss you, she'd likely have forgone whatever he planned to say in order to feel his lips on hers again.
"My window?" Flora repeats, as if to suggest that he ought to just use the front door. They both knew of course that the idea of him slipping in through her upper-floor window was precisely the sort of thing the Doubletake liked. "I mean...the window will probably be open." She says innocently, though the way she shrugs softly against him is anything but. "Not all of us have magical ways to keep ourselves cool. Some of us have to resort to opening our windows and hoping for a cool breeze."
Or a hotpirate smuggler.
Flora is an everything sort of gal, Jack, a polyglot when it comes to love languages if you will.
Unsurprised to feel the captain's hands and lips upon her before he opted to speak—he had fucked her out on the ice before saying thank you for the feather, after all—the queen nevertheless melts against him. Her tongue chases his, however slowly, as if she might be able to pin down the sudden warm flush of affection that she can feel from him. When they part, the warmth Flora feels has little to do with the hot springs, and had the first words out of Jack's mouth not been a surprising I'll miss you, she'd likely have forgone whatever he planned to say in order to feel his lips on hers again.
"My window?" Flora repeats, as if to suggest that he ought to just use the front door. They both knew of course that the idea of him slipping in through her upper-floor window was precisely the sort of thing the Doubletake liked. "I mean...the window will probably be open." She says innocently, though the way she shrugs softly against him is anything but. "Not all of us have magical ways to keep ourselves cool. Some of us have to resort to opening our windows and hoping for a cool breeze."
Or a hot
