flora
That Jack isn't doing any of the right things isn't his fault. One might think that as a telepath there'd be no one more primed and ready to provide exactly what Flora needed (assuming Jack was at all inclined to, anyway), but of course that presupposed that Flora had any idea at all about what would make things better. The wellspring of nothingness that had erupted inside of her absorbed every single idea the queen had about what might make her feel better, yet yielded no results. Normally she'd have taken full advantage of how the pair had woken up that morning, especially after having tended to their wounds for so long, and yet she'd felt nothing even as Jack had held her close on her rooftop. (A place she'd normally have quite happily fucked him for all to see). Similarly replacing the sounds of her parent's screams and growls with moans of pleasure in order to change the soundtrack the houseboat had on a loop inside of her mind might have been her first port of call, and yet. None of it made her feeling anything. She didn't want Jack to stay or go; she wanted his affection yet felt nothing as his lips brushed against her cheek.
"I don't know," Flora admits, well aware he'd be able to feel the gnawing void of her indecision. "I want to do this first, and then we'll see." As for going home? "I want to stay with you." Even when it seems like I don't. Even when Jack's presence failed to make her thoughts shine and even when she grew thorny, preferring to blanket herself in deadfall rather than let anything new grow.
Pulling in a breath, Flora turned toward the room, lifting the mace and testing its weight. No doubt her shoulder would ache after what she was about to do, but fuck it. It couldn't hurt any more than the deep grooves inside of her heart and soul that seemed to constantly weep.
Lifting the stick the queen aimed first for anything glass, anything brittle, or anything that would make a sound when smashed.
"I don't know," Flora admits, well aware he'd be able to feel the gnawing void of her indecision. "I want to do this first, and then we'll see." As for going home? "I want to stay with you." Even when it seems like I don't. Even when Jack's presence failed to make her thoughts shine and even when she grew thorny, preferring to blanket herself in deadfall rather than let anything new grow.
Pulling in a breath, Flora turned toward the room, lifting the mace and testing its weight. No doubt her shoulder would ache after what she was about to do, but fuck it. It couldn't hurt any more than the deep grooves inside of her heart and soul that seemed to constantly weep.
Lifting the stick the queen aimed first for anything glass, anything brittle, or anything that would make a sound when smashed.
How can a person know everything at 18 but nothing at 22?
Will you still want me when I'm nothing new?
Will you still want me when I'm nothing new?
