flora
She hadn't thought it was what she wanted—the image of Jack pressing her down into the sheets where she'd been held captive had only left her feeling hollow and full of anger—but it had only taken seeing the spark she felt inside reflected in the storm blue of Jack's eyes to make her realize how very wrong she'd been. "I'm going to hold you to that," she purrs, caring little for the consequences of sinking whoever's boat this was, and thinking only of the calloused press of Jack's fingers against her skin and how every scrap of wood they stood upon deserved nothing better than to die a lonely death at the bottom of the sea.
Letting her feet slide against the flooring so as not to lose her balance as Jack guides her backward, Flora's hands grow similarly greedy in how they sweep across the captain's strong shoulders before one coils up into his dark hair. Every press of his lips and tongue has a fire-bright pulse of warmth sweeping away the Doubletake's more destructive thoughts as his wandering touch offers up something that finally begins to fill the void Flora had worried was now a permanent fixture in the landscape of her mind.
Trying and failing to catch her breath as Jack pulls away, Flora only spares the bed a cursory glance before she's twisting in the captain's arms in an effort to pull him down with her. "I don't care," she has time to whisper before her fingers demandingly tug at his hair. You make everything better; this room, their deaths, her whole life.
Letting her feet slide against the flooring so as not to lose her balance as Jack guides her backward, Flora's hands grow similarly greedy in how they sweep across the captain's strong shoulders before one coils up into his dark hair. Every press of his lips and tongue has a fire-bright pulse of warmth sweeping away the Doubletake's more destructive thoughts as his wandering touch offers up something that finally begins to fill the void Flora had worried was now a permanent fixture in the landscape of her mind.
Trying and failing to catch her breath as Jack pulls away, Flora only spares the bed a cursory glance before she's twisting in the captain's arms in an effort to pull him down with her. "I don't care," she has time to whisper before her fingers demandingly tug at his hair. You make everything better; this room, their deaths, her whole life.
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?
