she's the kinda song you could play over and over
The world had narrowed to just her and Jack. Flora could feel the life slipping away from him, her heart splintering with every second that passed. She held him close, her hands pressed against his wound, her tears mixing with his blood, staining everything in a shade of red that would forever haunt her dreams. Despite the way it felt like an ending, Flora knew it wasn't. Knew she could fix this—could bring Jack back. But Pierce had other plans. The glint of his blade, the cold indifference in his eyes—it all blurred together as Flora's world teetered on the edge of oblivion. She thought he would leave, that she would be able to depress her compass and return back to Torchline. But then the blade found her, slipping through flesh and bone with a terrible finality.
In those last few moments, her thoughts scattered like fallen leaves on a Leafchange breeze. She thought of Jack, of his pirate's smile and the way his eyes crinkled when he let himself laugh, of the spray of flowers on his arm and how the last word he'd ever said to her was love. She thought of Torchline, of the golden beaches and the nights spent beneath an endless blanket of stars. She thought of Mateo who now she might only see on special occasions, and of Enzo who'd she'd be reunited with much sooner than expected. She felt herself slipping, the edges of her consciousness unraveling like a thread pulled loose from a seam, too frayed to be of any use to anyone.
And then, darkness.
When Flora opened her eyes again, it felt like coming up for air after being underwater too long—her chest aching, her body weak, the world around her hazy and unfamiliar. Her limbs felt leaden, her head pounding with every heartbeat. She blinked, her vision swimming as she tried to understand, tried to remember where she was and why her shoulder hurt so badly.
Jack. The thought struck her like a lightning bolt, and she willed herself to move, managing only a slow turn of her head as her fingers trembled, able to make out only the strange shape of Ronin above her. She could still feel the warmth of the captain in her arms, the weight of him as he collapsed, the silence that followed. It was all still there, in the corners of her mind, like a place she could walk through if she dared to close her eyes; a house with shattered windows and doors left open, the wind howling through the empty spaces. Jack's presence was there, lingering, like a shadow that refused to fade. She could almost see him, standing in the doorway of her thoughts, a part of her that was lost but not entirely gone. She wanted to reach out, to find him in the echoes of her mind, but everything was too fractured, too broken.
With every ounce of strength she had left, Flora took a shaky breath, her gaze unfocused as she tried to hold onto that single thought—"—Jack—"
In those last few moments, her thoughts scattered like fallen leaves on a Leafchange breeze. She thought of Jack, of his pirate's smile and the way his eyes crinkled when he let himself laugh, of the spray of flowers on his arm and how the last word he'd ever said to her was love. She thought of Torchline, of the golden beaches and the nights spent beneath an endless blanket of stars. She thought of Mateo who now she might only see on special occasions, and of Enzo who'd she'd be reunited with much sooner than expected. She felt herself slipping, the edges of her consciousness unraveling like a thread pulled loose from a seam, too frayed to be of any use to anyone.
And then, darkness.
When Flora opened her eyes again, it felt like coming up for air after being underwater too long—her chest aching, her body weak, the world around her hazy and unfamiliar. Her limbs felt leaden, her head pounding with every heartbeat. She blinked, her vision swimming as she tried to understand, tried to remember where she was and why her shoulder hurt so badly.
Jack. The thought struck her like a lightning bolt, and she willed herself to move, managing only a slow turn of her head as her fingers trembled, able to make out only the strange shape of Ronin above her. She could still feel the warmth of the captain in her arms, the weight of him as he collapsed, the silence that followed. It was all still there, in the corners of her mind, like a place she could walk through if she dared to close her eyes; a house with shattered windows and doors left open, the wind howling through the empty spaces. Jack's presence was there, lingering, like a shadow that refused to fade. She could almost see him, standing in the doorway of her thoughts, a part of her that was lost but not entirely gone. She wanted to reach out, to find him in the echoes of her mind, but everything was too fractured, too broken.
With every ounce of strength she had left, Flora took a shaky breath, her gaze unfocused as she tried to hold onto that single thought—"—Jack—"
