am I stitching up seams, or pulling on triggers?

JACK

The brief raise of Jack's eyebrows - wry and tired, more than anything - is wholehearted agreement with Flora's statement; helpful and impossible is how he'd grown up with it, after all. "...I know," he says eventually. "That's the other reason leavin' was so easy. It's hard to exist when your thoughts are so tumultuous, an' it was simple to walk away from it, same as I would for anyone else." But that hadn't been fair, and he'd admitted as much in the House of Midnight.

"I can't say I won't do those things again," he says. "Knowin' what you think doesn't mean I'll just... be and do all the things that make you happy no matter what. Doesn't mean we won't still have arguments. But I can bring it up, so it's not like I've ignored it." A chance at a middle ground between the two extremes they'd lived in prior.

Refilling the glass, he nods his agreement about the difference between cooling off and fucking off entirely, but as it cuts to the quick of their worst fight, Jack's gaze drops as well, jaw feathering. "I was so angry with you," he mutters, voice barely beyond a whisper. "Not for what happened, though that was part of it at first. It was more 'cause you did it without me. Like I wasn't good enough to be included in it." Inhaling a long breath and huffing it out again, he offers the glass out to her.

"That can't happen again," he says quietly. "You wanna do somethin' weird an' heroic an' stupid, by all means. But let me in on it. What's the point of all I can do, if I ain't able to help the person that matters to me most when it counts?"

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

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!