i'd wipe the dirt off your name with the shirt off my back
Flora’s laugh slips out before she can stop it, dry and wry and more amused than she really has any right to be given the topic, but gods if the image of Pierce standing there like a stupid little statue while Jack fires a cannon at him isn’t enough to make the corners of her mouth curl. “"I’ll keep an ear out for cannon fire then," she says, tipping her head toward him, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "When I hear the boom, I’ll sprint in and sucker-punch him right in the balls."
But the levity—however brief—doesn’t last. Not when Jack folds her letter like it means something, only to pair it with a comment that sinks claws into her before she can brace for it. Her jaw tenses, eyes narrowing for half a heartbeat as a flare of heat rises beneath her ribs, wild and instant. Not recently. She bites down—hard—on the first reply that comes to mind, the one that simmers with salt and venom. What the fuck have you done lately for me to thank you for? It’s right there, lodged behind her teeth like a thorn, but she forces it down with a breath that tastes like iron.
Instead, she clears her throat, a sharp little sound swallowed by the wind. She doesn’t meet his eye again right away, choosing instead to glance out toward the horizon, her fingers twitching lightly against the rail like she’s trying to ground herself. What the fuck would it do to pick a fight with him now, when they're still dancing around the real reason they can't even look at one another, and when talking about it wouldn't do an ounce of good anyway?
So when she speaks again, her voice is smooth and unbothered, even if the edges of her thoughts are still bristling like a tide pulling too hard at the reef. "I sent Kaisel a letter this morning too," she says casually. "When he replies, I’m going to tell him how fast things could have ended for him down there. And that if he knows what’s good for him, he’ll leave you alone."
She shrugs, flicking a curl back over her shoulder. "Then again...I think he and one of your daughters might be a thing, so.." So perhaps Jack would be hearing from Kaisel regardless of what Flora had to say about it.
But the levity—however brief—doesn’t last. Not when Jack folds her letter like it means something, only to pair it with a comment that sinks claws into her before she can brace for it. Her jaw tenses, eyes narrowing for half a heartbeat as a flare of heat rises beneath her ribs, wild and instant. Not recently. She bites down—hard—on the first reply that comes to mind, the one that simmers with salt and venom. What the fuck have you done lately for me to thank you for? It’s right there, lodged behind her teeth like a thorn, but she forces it down with a breath that tastes like iron.
Instead, she clears her throat, a sharp little sound swallowed by the wind. She doesn’t meet his eye again right away, choosing instead to glance out toward the horizon, her fingers twitching lightly against the rail like she’s trying to ground herself. What the fuck would it do to pick a fight with him now, when they're still dancing around the real reason they can't even look at one another, and when talking about it wouldn't do an ounce of good anyway?
So when she speaks again, her voice is smooth and unbothered, even if the edges of her thoughts are still bristling like a tide pulling too hard at the reef. "I sent Kaisel a letter this morning too," she says casually. "When he replies, I’m going to tell him how fast things could have ended for him down there. And that if he knows what’s good for him, he’ll leave you alone."
She shrugs, flicking a curl back over her shoulder. "Then again...I think he and one of your daughters might be a thing, so.." So perhaps Jack would be hearing from Kaisel regardless of what Flora had to say about it.
