you hate the crash, but you love the rush
Flora stirs, lashes fluttering open as she registers the soft creak of the cabin door, the shift in air that comes with Jack's presence—warm, familiar, reassuring. She’s half-buried in the tangle of blankets, curls sprawled across the pillow, their golden waves catching faint moonlight filtering in through the window. A sleepy confusion washes through her thoughts as she watches Jack settle behind his desk instead of coming to her, a faint crease appearing between her brows as she props herself onto one elbow.
"Hmmm," she hums softly, sleep roughening the edges of her voice as she rubs the back of her hand over her eyes. "Why’re you all the way over there?" The blankets shift, pooling loosely around her waist as she makes room for him—because gods, it felt like he'd been gone forever, and she had no intention of sleeping alone any longer than absolutely necessary. A yawn interrupts her next words, and she blinks drowsily at him, moonlight catching in messy golden curls spilling over her bare shoulder. "Come to bed, captain."
"Hmmm," she hums softly, sleep roughening the edges of her voice as she rubs the back of her hand over her eyes. "Why’re you all the way over there?" The blankets shift, pooling loosely around her waist as she makes room for him—because gods, it felt like he'd been gone forever, and she had no intention of sleeping alone any longer than absolutely necessary. A yawn interrupts her next words, and she blinks drowsily at him, moonlight catching in messy golden curls spilling over her bare shoulder. "Come to bed, captain."
