it's not your fault that you're always wrong
It nearly slipped out - a quip about Eloise not having to think in quite so much detail about how shit he looked or how unlike those balloon muscled assholes he was (here's lookin' at you, Saiden) - and Jack barely contained it behind his teeth. That way lay a sort of madness that he definitely wasn't able to deal with in his current state. "You've seen me operate hungover - have a lil faith," he muttered, before snorting at her comment. "Go right on ahead," he invited. She was already in his cabin - arguably the most personal place he had - and he wasn't in a position to stop her.
"More that I'm wonderin' what hell you've found yourself in to be seekin' out my company over the rest of Torchline. We're stuck together enough on the sea." He scoffed; it was true, though. But aw, she thought he was interesting? And challenging? So sweet. "If you shout in my ear I'm leavin' you behind," he grumbled in warning at her invite, taking a couple of moments to consider it before shifting to abandon the pillow in lieu of her lap. Was it better, or worse? Don't ask Jack. (He'd lie about it anyhow).
"More that I'm wonderin' what hell you've found yourself in to be seekin' out my company over the rest of Torchline. We're stuck together enough on the sea." He scoffed; it was true, though. But aw, she thought he was interesting? And challenging? So sweet. "If you shout in my ear I'm leavin' you behind," he grumbled in warning at her invite, taking a couple of moments to consider it before shifting to abandon the pillow in lieu of her lap. Was it better, or worse? Don't ask Jack. (He'd lie about it anyhow).
