JACK
"It'd be one way to let me know your opinion," Jack says with the hint of a smile on his face; never mind that he can lift it all from her mind, the way she unfurls like first light breaking and rippling across the waves, delight and expectation weaving together into something begging for open air and crashing water. But then her fingers close around his hand and she's turning, her back to him and the Greatwood blurring away beneath them like a patchwork of green.
And nevermind the press of her body against him and all the ways it might otherwise bring him to life - with his hand anchored gently against her shoulder and the solid presence of the ship beneath his feet, Jack's focus on the moment is absolute. His brow furrows ever so slightly, not with misunderstanding now or even hesitation, just with the knowledge that this is somehow more intimate than most anything else he's ever done in his life. "A'right," he says, his voice unexpectedly soft. "Hope you were serious about not crashin' us."
The joke is unnecessary - Jack is a bad man but he's a good sailor, and it's anticipation rather than nerves that ripple through him as he takes a slow, deep inhale and allows his mind to settle. Strands of his magic cast out and around her, entwining with thought and breath and the thunder of her heart, and when his hands move, they're gentle but they're confident. Fingers tease through her fiery hair - fill those sails - and his grip squeezes warmth into her shoulder - turn into the tailwind - before his touch skims down against the ladder of her ribs and the curve of her hips, coaxing, learning, adjusting.
And nevermind the press of her body against him and all the ways it might otherwise bring him to life - with his hand anchored gently against her shoulder and the solid presence of the ship beneath his feet, Jack's focus on the moment is absolute. His brow furrows ever so slightly, not with misunderstanding now or even hesitation, just with the knowledge that this is somehow more intimate than most anything else he's ever done in his life. "A'right," he says, his voice unexpectedly soft. "Hope you were serious about not crashin' us."
The joke is unnecessary - Jack is a bad man but he's a good sailor, and it's anticipation rather than nerves that ripple through him as he takes a slow, deep inhale and allows his mind to settle. Strands of his magic cast out and around her, entwining with thought and breath and the thunder of her heart, and when his hands move, they're gentle but they're confident. Fingers tease through her fiery hair - fill those sails - and his grip squeezes warmth into her shoulder - turn into the tailwind - before his touch skims down against the ladder of her ribs and the curve of her hips, coaxing, learning, adjusting.
fight so dirty but you love so sweet
talk so pretty but your heart got teeth
talk so pretty but your heart got teeth
- Secret Telepath
- Functionally Immortal (Forever 35)
- Two small star tattoos beneath his left eye
- Click for The Ark!
