walk me home in the dead of night
(I'm not being an asshole, this is for a quest xD)
The sun was setting, drenching everything in golden light, but Flora barely noticed. She was too busy dripping wax onto the shrine, watching it cool into messy star shapes. Not that it mattered—Safrin got the point. Probably.
Jack. Her fingers moved almost automatically, letting the wax drop, her eyes fixed but unfocused. The breeze tugged at her curls, lifting them around her face as thoughts of the Ark swam before her. How long would she stay over in Jack's cabin, without really living there? The line between visiting and moving in felt blurry, undefined. Would he even ask? Did she want him to? Flora could almost see it—climbing the gangplank every night, Jack standing there, that arrogant smirk on his face as she complained about the climb before strolling together toward his cabin. His bed was much smaller than hers, and the queen imagined them tangled together, his arm draped over hip, the sway of the ship lulling her to sleep as they had done for so many nights now.
Another star, a little off-center.
The sky above her deepened, hues of pink and gold giving way to indigo, a few brave stars beginning to pierce the twilight. Love. The word hung in her mind, heavy and fragile. What if he never says it? She didn’t need to hear it—not really. But still. Maybe just once. Just to know it was real. (because it was, wasn't it?) Her fingers paused as her lips pulled into a frown. Flora pictured Jack, his usual crooked grin softened, his blue eyes losing that guarded edge, just for her. Vulnerable. The way he was sometimes after sex, when he held her close—clutched her close—like he was trying to fix something in place only for it to slip away. Flora couldn't blame him, of course, not knowing the way he was raised, the things he had to endure not just from his father but from his magic. Sighing, feeling the warmth of the cooling wax on her fingertips, the queen shakes her head. It was easier to think of him deflecting, giving her those half-smiles and vague words that danced close enough to what she wanted to hear. Close enough to keep her there, to end sentences with "love" just often enough to keep—
—the wax dripped again, snapping her from the thought. Her gaze followed the drop as it fell, landing beside the others, spreading out in uneven lines. Her heart squeezed painfully as her thoughts unhelpfully shifted. Immortal. Forever. Jack would go on, long after she was gone. Would he even remember her, in the forever of it all? Would the details blur, her face, her voice, the way she made him laugh? Or would she fade into just another memory, too painful to hold on to, something he'd push away? The thought clawed at her as her gaze dropped to her hands, smeared with wax, fingers trembling slightly. Would he look at the tattoo on his arm one day—years from now—and strain to remember why he’d put it there in the first place?
Flora bit her lip, blinking against the sting in her eyes. The shrine before her glistened in the fading light, the little stars of wax catching the glow, imperfect but bright. Another star, a little messier than the last, fell into place.
But—
Gods, she loved him. Even if she wasn't articulate enough to convince her Dads about the reasons, even if everyone thought they would fail; even if they turned out to be right. Jack saw her—the parts she tried to hide, the messy, scared pieces—and he didn't flinch. He knew her better than anyone, down to the thoughts she barely dared to admit to herself. Though he wasn't one to protect her with comforting words or to place himself in harm's way for the sake of chivalry, he'd go after anyone who hurt her, no hesitation, no questions asked. He wasn’t afraid to be ruthless for her sake, and for better or worse, that was precisely the example her parents had set for her.
Jack challenged her, frustrated her, but he never lied, never pretended to be anything other than what he was. And sometimes, when he thought she wasn’t looking, he’d let his guard down just enough to let her see how much he cared, and gods, those moments were everything.
As the evening grew darker, the world around her hushed, as if holding its breath. Flora sat back, the constellation of wax before her incomplete, but there all the same. She sighed, letting the air escape her lungs in a slow, shaky exhale. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do.
~FIN
