the wild wild sea talking sweet to me

JACK

see me falling
yeah, down and lonely

Flora's babe! my boyfriend! and the apparent knowledge that she'd needed to get wasted to feel better before coming to see him absolutely have Jack doing that thing with his eyebrows. And while he gives a cursory glance over his shoulder that has many of those same patrons lowering their tankards (and their gazes), his focus soon swings back to Flora, reeking of liquor and with her arms snaking around his neck in a way that has him wanting to shrug her off the same way he would a jacket.

A muscle feathers ever so slightly in his jaw as he fights to bring any of her thoughts into focus, and with the fog clearing, even temporarily, and his presence sending motes of light scattering through Flora's mind, Jack sees it. Things are not how he left them. Flora is not how he left her.

One arm curls around her waist to draw her flush against him, even if the steel in his spine makes him much more of a rigid pillar than anything warm or malleable. The other hand, the one lightly speckled with blood, sneaks up to grasp her jaw, forcing her to hold his stare. "What happened to you?" he asks slowly, the words as soft and sinister as a shark appearing in the gloom of the deep ocean.

are the angels on their way
i’m in the dirt