am I stitching up seams, or pulling on triggers?

JACK

She slips away from him and the distance is as cold as any other night alone in this cabin, Jack shifting up enough to slump back against the headboard. The blankets land in his lap, lending a small piece of dignity to what's becoming a very undignified conversation, and he rakes a hand back through his sun-bleached hair, wincing at the pain in her thoughts. "I found out at Caly's birthday, from the man himself," he agrees - and it had stung then, in some walled-off way he didn't quite let himself feel, but it prickles a little more now.

His sigh is almost a laugh, Jack shrugging to her with as much honesty as a villain can muster. "'Course it hasn't. We were done - what would it have all been for? My fuckin' health?" But of course she doesn't just mean the surface of things, his prickly nature, the way he's learned to behave as one of Torchline's crooked kingpins. It's the root of it all, the intrinsic way they both are that just don't gel together.

"If we're so impossible, how does this keep happenin'?" he asks, gesturing between them - him, her, in bed again. "You can't keep your mind on the straight an' narrow when we're together, so how the fuck am I s'posed to? You were thinkin' about kissin' me long before I did it just now. An' now it was wrong, 'cause it was me?"

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

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!