flora
There’s a strange, brittle space in Flora’s chest as she watches Jack move—hands already darkening with oil, body already folded into purpose. The part of her that once knew him inside out still flinches at the things she doesn’t know now. The discovery of his new magic hits like a slip of ice between her shoulder blades: not the revelation itself, but the fact that she’s hearing it like this. Late. Distant. After. It’s a small thing, maybe, and one to be expected given that they'd broken up, but something in her shivers all the same. A shadow in the shape of something that used to be hers to notice first.
"Pretty handy," she murmurs, tucking that feeling away beneath a curl of steam from her next breath. "Maybe you oughta take a vacation in the Climb next. See if you come back breathing fire." Her smile flickers, warm and faintly wry, eyes following the line of frost that still clings to the edge of the Sugartide’s hull.
She takes a sip of the rum when it’s handed back, letting the burn settle in her chest. "Thanks," she says simply, and there’s weight behind it that he'll likely feel as much as hear. Not just for this moment, but for all the other moments he’s kept her alive, whether with magic or with maddening stubbornness. "If it weren’t for you, I’d be down another of my nine lives I think."
The bottle tilts back toward him in silent offering. As the wind cuts sharper around them and the ocean roars low and endless at their backs, Flora gives a little shiver, despite Jack's coat tucked around her. "What were you doing this far west? Not out here for mageglass, were you?"
"Pretty handy," she murmurs, tucking that feeling away beneath a curl of steam from her next breath. "Maybe you oughta take a vacation in the Climb next. See if you come back breathing fire." Her smile flickers, warm and faintly wry, eyes following the line of frost that still clings to the edge of the Sugartide’s hull.
She takes a sip of the rum when it’s handed back, letting the burn settle in her chest. "Thanks," she says simply, and there’s weight behind it that he'll likely feel as much as hear. Not just for this moment, but for all the other moments he’s kept her alive, whether with magic or with maddening stubbornness. "If it weren’t for you, I’d be down another of my nine lives I think."
The bottle tilts back toward him in silent offering. As the wind cuts sharper around them and the ocean roars low and endless at their backs, Flora gives a little shiver, despite Jack's coat tucked around her. "What were you doing this far west? Not out here for mageglass, were you?"
what doesn't kill me makes
me want you more
me want you more
