flora
"Maybe that's what I had planned for your birthday." Lifting an eyebrow, Jack would of course be able to instantly call her bluff based on the newness of this particular thought as it bloomed in her mind, and yet the way it immediately began to take root very much suggested it was something he could expect in the coming season. It might not top death and resurrection, but a girl had to try.
Inhaling sharply as Jack struck the match in order to catch the sulphur flare while it was still fresh, Flora let the scent of tobacco and rich smoke fill her senses as her gaze wafted across Jack's face. He looked a fair amount more rugged than was normal, though that had more to do with the scruff on his cheeks and the lingering bags under his eyes than anything else; his eyes were every bit as blue and overwhelming as they'd always been. "Psst." Reaching up to pluck the cigarette from between his lips, Flora arches her brows. "No looking at my dad while I'm trying to flirt with you."
Trickling her nails against the back of Jack's neck and then following the cords of muscle up into his hair, the Doubletake smirks, easily able to imagine the warning bells that would have gone off in younger Jack's mind around any seers who weren't entirely full of shit. "And none of them came close?" She wonders, before lifting his cigarette to her lips and taking a deep drag, her mind explicitly imagining that it was something else.
Inhaling sharply as Jack struck the match in order to catch the sulphur flare while it was still fresh, Flora let the scent of tobacco and rich smoke fill her senses as her gaze wafted across Jack's face. He looked a fair amount more rugged than was normal, though that had more to do with the scruff on his cheeks and the lingering bags under his eyes than anything else; his eyes were every bit as blue and overwhelming as they'd always been. "Psst." Reaching up to pluck the cigarette from between his lips, Flora arches her brows. "No looking at my dad while I'm trying to flirt with you."
Trickling her nails against the back of Jack's neck and then following the cords of muscle up into his hair, the Doubletake smirks, easily able to imagine the warning bells that would have gone off in younger Jack's mind around any seers who weren't entirely full of shit. "And none of them came close?" She wonders, before lifting his cigarette to her lips and taking a deep drag, her mind explicitly imagining that it was something else.
The rumors are terrible and cruel
But honey, most of them are true
But honey, most of them are true
