if i tell you this is drowning

JACK

Flora knits herself back together and Jack is left adrift in her wake, feeling each vibration of her thoughts like a note plucked on the strings of a harp. Separate at first, until the song can layer and build into swelling harmonies in a seamless rise and fall of music he can curl himself against. Music where she can keep him, for a while.

It's an embarrassingly long time before he feels as if he's properly caught his breath, but like Flora, the thought comes and goes like a leaf on the wind, and he inhales a slow, deep breath and lets it out again against the warm, soft press of her skin. Her hand against his back almost has him arching into the touch, the heat from her fingers at odds with the cool air still drifting into the cabin from the open door up to the deck.

Not wanting to speak so much as he wants to press kisses to every inch of her body, to stoke the fire in her mind and her core until they can do this again, over and over, for the rest of the afternoon, it's likely a good thing that Jack is still a slave to the needs of his own body, and it's with unsurprising exhaustion that he considers their next course of action.

"If you wait until we're back on The Ark," he says, his voice rough and hoarse with exertion, "I'll let you shoot a cannon at this boat."

sometimes we put our hearts in the wrong places
(what the fuck is it doing between your teeth?)

Code stolen from Queen Sky