your touch brought forth an incandescent glow, tarnished but so grand
Snorting at Jack's words only to find her breath catching in the back of her throat as he tugged her fingers toward his lips, Flora's eyes softened. Wanting both to admonish him for being so casually charming and also to pepper his face with kisses, the queen opted for neither and simply nodded. "If I wasn't worried about wrinkles, I'd march right over to Frey and just age up ten years to shut them up." She wouldn't, they both knew it, and not just because of the wrinkles; Flora wasn't the sort to yield to external pressure, but instead dug her heels in all the more when it was applied.
"It will." She agrees, her voice full of laughter. "This time instead of shopping I'll come sit in the back with you and fill your mind with all sorts of things so you don't get bored." Grinning slyly if only because they both knew exactly what sorts of things Flora would want to fill Jack's mind with while someone was trying to take his exact measurements, the queen also sets her glass down in order to comb her fingers through the sides of the captain's dark hair.
"What? I like you." Flora pouts as she traces her thumb against the rough stubble along his jaw. Even in a quiet moment like this Jack was all contrasts—sharp and soft, dangerous yet caring in his own way. How much of it was to get the sort of reaction out of her that his magic could draw from and how much was real was a line which was becoming harder for the queen to differentiate, but only because she risked hurting her own feelings by analyzing things too closely.
"It will." She agrees, her voice full of laughter. "This time instead of shopping I'll come sit in the back with you and fill your mind with all sorts of things so you don't get bored." Grinning slyly if only because they both knew exactly what sorts of things Flora would want to fill Jack's mind with while someone was trying to take his exact measurements, the queen also sets her glass down in order to comb her fingers through the sides of the captain's dark hair.
"What? I like you." Flora pouts as she traces her thumb against the rough stubble along his jaw. Even in a quiet moment like this Jack was all contrasts—sharp and soft, dangerous yet caring in his own way. How much of it was to get the sort of reaction out of her that his magic could draw from and how much was real was a line which was becoming harder for the queen to differentiate, but only because she risked hurting her own feelings by analyzing things too closely.
