the wild wild sea talking sweet to me

JACK

see me falling
yeah, down and lonely

"Mm, that's all," Jack confirms, more than happy to cement his agreement in the shared lie that will have the ring heating on Flora's finger. He's content to drift for a moment or so in the golden expanse of her thoughts, letting them smooth down the thorns that had erupted in his mind, taming it into a place that's wearily calm, if not entirely settled or content.

Shifting to assist her movements as best he can without actually doing any of the work himself, Jack's calloused fingers slip down the length of her spine to rest against her hips and the soft curve of her backside. As she leans in for a kiss it's one he grants without complaint, and even after the rough night (and even rougher few days and weeks), part of him - one part in particular - is keen to make the most of their proximity.

Alas, it's too bad that his mind is otherwise elsewhere.

"Let's go," he decides of the roof, knowing already that sleep is not a commodity that he'll be granted for the rest of the night. And so with both of them committed to being bleary-eyed and not entirely present for the day, Jack sits himself up with Flora in his lap, grabbing her blankets to take with them so they can ward off the early morning chill.

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