JACK
He watched her devolve into another rant, the captain seeming to realise something about her in that moment, sitting quietly by as his glass sailed out of his hands and left him with the one he'd poured for her. Joke was on Eloise; he'd poured her more rum than himself, figuring a stiff drink might do her some good. (Apparently not). Raising her glass instead, he tipped her a toast and knocked it back in one, as if to show her it hadn't been tampered with.
"All for what?" he echoed, bouncing the question back at her. "What's it all for, Eloise? Why do I push your buttons? Why do I do things I know must piss you off, by virtue of what we both know I can do? Why would I do that?" Was it because he hated her? Or was it because she'd never brought it up in a way that wasn't screeching at him or writing fucking letters to get him into shit?
"I don't think I'm the one that needs a fuckin' brothel. You're like a coiled spring."
"All for what?" he echoed, bouncing the question back at her. "What's it all for, Eloise? Why do I push your buttons? Why do I do things I know must piss you off, by virtue of what we both know I can do? Why would I do that?" Was it because he hated her? Or was it because she'd never brought it up in a way that wasn't screeching at him or writing fucking letters to get him into shit?
"I don't think I'm the one that needs a fuckin' brothel. You're like a coiled spring."
you wanted perfect, you got your perfect
but now I'm too perfect for someone like you
but now I'm too perfect for someone like you
