i look fly, i look good

JACK

"That's 'cause you are my job," Jack quips, the words low and half playful, his smile forming around the cigarette between his lips. "An' a great deal more'n that, might I add. But even so." She sweeps her hair over her shoulder and he takes his time mapping the lace against her pale flesh, marking each freckle and scar before he starts to cross the ribbons together to properly hold the corset against her body.

Glancing up at the chirrup of sudden voices and raising an eyebrow over his shoulder when he can't find any thoughts attached to them, Jack just about catches a glimpse of the squirrels darting across the pier outside before he dismisses them, turning back to The Ark - who is much more interesting by far anyway. "To swim, obviously," he mutters, though the amusement in his voice suggests that it's hardly the only reason.

Tighter is something he almost feels in her thoughts before she says it out loud, Jack complying without remark to pull the lace as tight as she considers reasonable before he ties it off between her shoulder blades. "How's that?" he asks, taking the cigarette from his lips at last to exhale a stream of smoke, following her gaze around the boutique. "Mm, so you have. You got anythin' mind to go with this corset?" Or will it just be her long, long legs?

you're the last of a dying breed; write our names in the wet concrete
I wonder if your therapist knows everything about me

Code stolen from Queen Sky