Lately we've been covered by the past
“Nobody said he wasn’t a shithead.” Caly immediately responds, her hackles raising slightly as she battles with the jaguar that is her soul. The war rages on as the sun within her wanes, sharpening into a crescent, the edges mirroring the frown that tugs onto her face.
Maybe it’s because she can’t relate to the idea of standing up for someone else you were just friendly with. Her siblings, yes, obviously. But to go out and pick a fight with Jack because he’d hurt Flora as it turns out? Maybe she’d expected him to have more self respect for himself than to go all noble for a friend.
Maybe she should’ve seen the signs, too, because when they’d met he’d been there for Flora. He was dressed in an imitation of her. And since then, they hadn’t really spoken of her, but when they had and he’d asked how the Hanged Man had gone, he’d seemed almost reserved with the idea that the Marin’s had made it theirs, even if Flora had told her that’s what she wanted.
The worst part is that she gets it. It’s a cruel strike that lances through her because of her admiration of Torchline’s Queen. The way she’d taken so much into her shoulders, had been so strong while everyone else was still figuring out how to live their lives. ”To girls who aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty.” Wasn’t that what Flora toasted her with when she’d brought stock of the liquor to the Sugar Tide?
Calypso has done nothing to the extent of what Flora has. And it burns in a way she doesn’t know how to express aside from the short nod, the way she’s sharp when she takes a step back from him. Because while she always felt like she was the sun, it seems he was more inclined to stare at the flowers.
“I get it.” She says surprisingly softly, the breath of air before the weight of it all crushes in. “Just wish I saw it before, s’all.” Because how could she really compare?
Maybe it’s because she can’t relate to the idea of standing up for someone else you were just friendly with. Her siblings, yes, obviously. But to go out and pick a fight with Jack because he’d hurt Flora as it turns out? Maybe she’d expected him to have more self respect for himself than to go all noble for a friend.
Maybe she should’ve seen the signs, too, because when they’d met he’d been there for Flora. He was dressed in an imitation of her. And since then, they hadn’t really spoken of her, but when they had and he’d asked how the Hanged Man had gone, he’d seemed almost reserved with the idea that the Marin’s had made it theirs, even if Flora had told her that’s what she wanted.
The worst part is that she gets it. It’s a cruel strike that lances through her because of her admiration of Torchline’s Queen. The way she’d taken so much into her shoulders, had been so strong while everyone else was still figuring out how to live their lives. ”To girls who aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty.” Wasn’t that what Flora toasted her with when she’d brought stock of the liquor to the Sugar Tide?
Calypso has done nothing to the extent of what Flora has. And it burns in a way she doesn’t know how to express aside from the short nod, the way she’s sharp when she takes a step back from him. Because while she always felt like she was the sun, it seems he was more inclined to stare at the flowers.
“I get it.” She says surprisingly softly, the breath of air before the weight of it all crushes in. “Just wish I saw it before, s’all.” Because how could she really compare?
Calypso
But don't you think that we are made to last
