flora
Flora rolls her eyes right back at him, a mirror of Jack's exasperation softened by the affection curling behind it. Still, as he gestures for her to keep going with her list, she exhales a long sigh, curls tumbling forward as she shakes her head. "I need more than a couple minutes after all this whiplash to pin it down, Jack. I wasn't...expecting this, so hopefully you can forgive me for not having a list in my back pocket."
When he swipes the bottle from her hands, her mouth opens in protest before closing again on a crooked, knowing smile. "Given someone’s recent lack of self-control," she drawls, eyes glittering with dry humour, "I thought it safer in my hands than yours." Haughtily she snatches the glass instead, narrowing her eyes at him with feigned severity before tipping it back, letting the burn of the liquor lick down her throat and take some of the fire with it.
Half a day to Stormbreak. The thought makes her chest ache, and she wonders aloud if maybe it wouldn’t be better to leave the Ark and meet him there like she’d planned from the start. Space, distance—time enough to gather their shit together. But at his request, his words train a spotlight on the tail-end of her thoughts, and it’s enough to scatter every thought in her head. She blinks, gaze slipping away as if the words might be hiding somewhere else in the room, before she lets them out slowly, careful and uncertain. "I...was thinking about how to figure out what we’d need to do—or change—to even try and make this work?"
When he swipes the bottle from her hands, her mouth opens in protest before closing again on a crooked, knowing smile. "Given someone’s recent lack of self-control," she drawls, eyes glittering with dry humour, "I thought it safer in my hands than yours." Haughtily she snatches the glass instead, narrowing her eyes at him with feigned severity before tipping it back, letting the burn of the liquor lick down her throat and take some of the fire with it.
Half a day to Stormbreak. The thought makes her chest ache, and she wonders aloud if maybe it wouldn’t be better to leave the Ark and meet him there like she’d planned from the start. Space, distance—time enough to gather their shit together. But at his request, his words train a spotlight on the tail-end of her thoughts, and it’s enough to scatter every thought in her head. She blinks, gaze slipping away as if the words might be hiding somewhere else in the room, before she lets them out slowly, careful and uncertain. "I...was thinking about how to figure out what we’d need to do—or change—to even try and make this work?"
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
