flora
Flora laughs at that, quick and bright, aqua eyes sparking. With an affectionate wrinkle of her nose, she shakes her head at him. "I still can’t believe you’d never been in a forest before," she says, her voice warm even as her curls tumble across his shoulder.
His next remark earns a snort of laughter low in her throat, cocky and pleased. "Please. Since apparently now I have the power to freeze a bottle of rum solid, I think I could persuade plenty of things." The words are light, though her thoughts don’t sharpen with heat or the sorts of garnet thoughts which might well coax certain things to life; instead, they stay soft and golden, light breaking across waves as her hand glides lazily over Jack's stomach and chest, fingers tracing idle, seafoam patterns across his skin.
Hearing about the borrowed workers only makes her shrug mischievously, lips quirking. "Noooo idea why that might be," she says airily, though the truth flickers in her thoughts—free drinks at the end of shift, food always piled high, laughter and music spilling out long after the workday. When he mentions being able to see it from the port, she tips her chin, brows rising as she slyly peeks up at him. "Which also means you can see the Ark from it." The implication lingers unspoken but clear: if he ever came to stay, his ship would be right there, in sight and safe—just like she knows he’d want.
His next remark earns a snort of laughter low in her throat, cocky and pleased. "Please. Since apparently now I have the power to freeze a bottle of rum solid, I think I could persuade plenty of things." The words are light, though her thoughts don’t sharpen with heat or the sorts of garnet thoughts which might well coax certain things to life; instead, they stay soft and golden, light breaking across waves as her hand glides lazily over Jack's stomach and chest, fingers tracing idle, seafoam patterns across his skin.
Hearing about the borrowed workers only makes her shrug mischievously, lips quirking. "Noooo idea why that might be," she says airily, though the truth flickers in her thoughts—free drinks at the end of shift, food always piled high, laughter and music spilling out long after the workday. When he mentions being able to see it from the port, she tips her chin, brows rising as she slyly peeks up at him. "Which also means you can see the Ark from it." The implication lingers unspoken but clear: if he ever came to stay, his ship would be right there, in sight and safe—just like she knows he’d want.
you're under the feeling like teenagers in cars
it ain't robbing or stealing if the moment is ours
it ain't robbing or stealing if the moment is ours
