you hate the crash, but you love the rush
Flora groans loudly, tipping her head back dramatically and squeezing her eyes shut as though physically pained by the turn of the conversation. Because, gods, clearly there was still more to talk about, just like she'd fuckin' said.
"Jack," she huffs sharply, lifting her head again to pin him with a pointed, utterly exasperated look. "Obviously I meant the whole—" she waves her hand vaguely, cheeks heating slightly as she glares at him, "—sex thing with Safrin. You can handshake or high-five her all you want. Knock her up a thousand more times for all I care—" (Okay, she obviously doesn't mean that but compared to the sting of knowing he’d been physically intimate with someone else, the idea of him spawning more kids barely even registers), "—but with your pants on." In dreams and awake. And if Jack wanted to float the idea of them having an open relationship, he was going to have to get a whole fuckton more charming and reassuring fast.
But when he asks if this is still a future she wants, Flora’s frustration flares white-hot, sudden and sharp, and she slams her glass down on the desk so hard it's a miracle the glass doesn't shatter beneath her hand. "See!" she snaps, practically vibrating with irritation. "You keep asking me to reconfirm whether I actually want to be in this relationship way more than I’ve ever asked you!" Her jaw tightens, gaze glittering fiercely as she gestures sharply at him. "Its been like three times in the span of this conversation, and again after I literally just said I didn't want to leave."
Reaching forward, and gods now the idea of slapping him seemed like it might actually make her feel better, instead, Flora places her palms on either side of the captain's cheeks, smushing his face until his lips puckered like a fish. "You are a no good smuggler idiot-" Pausing she leans forward to kiss Jack's obnoxiously shaped mouth. "-and I want to be with you."
"Jack," she huffs sharply, lifting her head again to pin him with a pointed, utterly exasperated look. "Obviously I meant the whole—" she waves her hand vaguely, cheeks heating slightly as she glares at him, "—sex thing with Safrin. You can handshake or high-five her all you want. Knock her up a thousand more times for all I care—" (Okay, she obviously doesn't mean that but compared to the sting of knowing he’d been physically intimate with someone else, the idea of him spawning more kids barely even registers), "—but with your pants on." In dreams and awake. And if Jack wanted to float the idea of them having an open relationship, he was going to have to get a whole fuckton more charming and reassuring fast.
But when he asks if this is still a future she wants, Flora’s frustration flares white-hot, sudden and sharp, and she slams her glass down on the desk so hard it's a miracle the glass doesn't shatter beneath her hand. "See!" she snaps, practically vibrating with irritation. "You keep asking me to reconfirm whether I actually want to be in this relationship way more than I’ve ever asked you!" Her jaw tightens, gaze glittering fiercely as she gestures sharply at him. "Its been like three times in the span of this conversation, and again after I literally just said I didn't want to leave."
Reaching forward, and gods now the idea of slapping him seemed like it might actually make her feel better, instead, Flora places her palms on either side of the captain's cheeks, smushing his face until his lips puckered like a fish. "You are a no good smuggler idiot-" Pausing she leans forward to kiss Jack's obnoxiously shaped mouth. "-and I want to be with you."
