i'd wipe the dirt off your name with the shirt off my back
Flora's own mental voice adds to the echoing screams of her parents as she fights to breathe, though it's only once her stomach ceases its heaving that she's able to draw in a ragged breath. This time as the world begins to spin it has nothing to do with the alcohol—or rather, nothing to do with the alcohol in her system—but rather the captain's strong arms suddenly tight around her. Weightless Flora clings to him, wrapping her legs around his waist and burying her face into the crook of his neck as she heaves in breath after shaky breath.
"I can't do it," she whispers, and no, she doesn't mean the counting. The words feel like a confession and a plea all at once, heavy with exhaustion and the weight of everything she hasn’t yet said. Her legs tighten instinctively around his waist, as though holding him closer might somehow fix the fissures running through her, might help to fill the violet claw marks that have cut her to the quick.
She swallows hard, her teeth catching her lip as she wills herself to stop crying, stop shaking, stop spiralling. But the effort only seems to make her smaller, her breath uneven and her chest aching as she fights to try and strike a match that will light the fireworks in her mind that she knows Jack likes. Loves.
"I can't do it," she whispers, and no, she doesn't mean the counting. The words feel like a confession and a plea all at once, heavy with exhaustion and the weight of everything she hasn’t yet said. Her legs tighten instinctively around his waist, as though holding him closer might somehow fix the fissures running through her, might help to fill the violet claw marks that have cut her to the quick.
She swallows hard, her teeth catching her lip as she wills herself to stop crying, stop shaking, stop spiralling. But the effort only seems to make her smaller, her breath uneven and her chest aching as she fights to try and strike a match that will light the fireworks in her mind that she knows Jack likes. Loves.
