i'd wipe the dirt off your name with the shirt off my back
Flora frowns, nodding slowly as Jack repeats what she'd said—each word somehow making it worse, not better. Hadama didn’t do last minute. Not unless something had already gone sideways or was about to. The letter had seemed perfectly normal at the time—earnest, yes, but not the sort of farewell you frame. But now, after what Jack just said? The edges of it feel sharper in hindsight, like something she should’ve noticed but didn’t. Like a door left unlocked.
And gods, wasn’t that just perfect?
She presses a kiss to Bassian’s cheek as he lifts her aboard, lips bright and sticky-sweet with gratitude, and murmurs against his skin, "Missed you, Bass. Let’s fly again sometime soon—just you and me okay?" He smells like citrus and salt and the very worst kind of fondness, and it makes her chest ache even as she smiles, slipping past him before the moment can bloom into something that will make it all the harder to leave.
The deck of the Ark is familiar beneath her sandals, enough so that the muscles along her spine tense without thinking. She knows this ship—its grooves, its sway, the exact give of the wood beneath her feet—and the familiarity wraps around her ribs like fishing line. She doesn’t look at the rigging. Doesn’t glance at the door to Jack's quarters. Doesn’t let herself think about how it feels to be back standing abord the Ark.
"I got a letter. Said he and Noah and Sah were going to patrol the Arclight, and he’d meet me for dinner later tonight. But if he didn’t come back..." Her voice softens, the last part folding in on itself, like paper gone damp. "If he didn’t come back, he said one of them would make the report."
She glances toward Starfall, frowning hard enough to have those telltale wrinkles that Danta and Asta didn't believe she had prominently on display between her brows. "And then he said I was Torchline’s shining star," she mutters. "And his, too. Said he was proud to have me as co-ruler." Her throat tightens, and she tries to laugh like it’s nothing, like she’s reading into it too much—but it doesn’t quite land. "Which, like... sure, okay, that definitely doesn't sound like a goodbye."
Her hands flex at her sides, fingers ghosting toward the rail but not quite touching it. "Do you think—" she starts, then shakes her head, switching tracks. "Okay, now you go."
And gods, wasn’t that just perfect?
She presses a kiss to Bassian’s cheek as he lifts her aboard, lips bright and sticky-sweet with gratitude, and murmurs against his skin, "Missed you, Bass. Let’s fly again sometime soon—just you and me okay?" He smells like citrus and salt and the very worst kind of fondness, and it makes her chest ache even as she smiles, slipping past him before the moment can bloom into something that will make it all the harder to leave.
The deck of the Ark is familiar beneath her sandals, enough so that the muscles along her spine tense without thinking. She knows this ship—its grooves, its sway, the exact give of the wood beneath her feet—and the familiarity wraps around her ribs like fishing line. She doesn’t look at the rigging. Doesn’t glance at the door to Jack's quarters. Doesn’t let herself think about how it feels to be back standing abord the Ark.
"I got a letter. Said he and Noah and Sah were going to patrol the Arclight, and he’d meet me for dinner later tonight. But if he didn’t come back..." Her voice softens, the last part folding in on itself, like paper gone damp. "If he didn’t come back, he said one of them would make the report."
She glances toward Starfall, frowning hard enough to have those telltale wrinkles that Danta and Asta didn't believe she had prominently on display between her brows. "And then he said I was Torchline’s shining star," she mutters. "And his, too. Said he was proud to have me as co-ruler." Her throat tightens, and she tries to laugh like it’s nothing, like she’s reading into it too much—but it doesn’t quite land. "Which, like... sure, okay, that definitely doesn't sound like a goodbye."
Her hands flex at her sides, fingers ghosting toward the rail but not quite touching it. "Do you think—" she starts, then shakes her head, switching tracks. "Okay, now you go."
