am I stitching up seams, or pulling on triggers?

JACK

Ecstasy is slow to release its chokehold on Jack, such that by the time he can half trust his limbs not to buckle entirely, he's slowly let himself melt into Flora and against the bed. Her arms wind around him like they might be the only thing holding him together, tethers of fire and gold that keep the chaos in him from spooling out into the open air. His head drops against her shoulder, breath shivering out of him in uneven bursts, as if he's forgotten how to control the rhythm of it.

And as her voice breaches the haze of pleasure that envelops them, Jack can't help it - he laughs, the sound rough as the sea on a stormy day. "Better'n most people I know," he agrees. He can feel the resistance in her thoughts before any part of him considers rolling away, and regardless of whether it's for her or for himself, fuck it, he stays. It's familiar in a way he doesn't expect - doesn't realise he's missed - to have her in his bed, her perfume on his pillows and her breath in his ear, and the captain falls quiet to simply exist with it.

fight so dirty but you love so sweet
talk so pretty but your heart got teeth

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!