“i know that.” jack is many things — dishonest, volatile, indecisive, arrogant — but he's not a cheat. he's holding his tongue now, in fear he might say something drastic that he can't pull back from. there's a million unsaid things hanging over them, all of which are growing harder and harder to contain each passing minute.
but he can't always stop himself. impulse control has never been his strong suit. jack takes a step closer, his head bent down to meet her eyes. “it doesn't have to be though. no one ever said we can't do what we want.” he's looking at spirit, but he's thinking about flynn. he's thinking about them both.
his hand hovers at her waist and he tries to will himself to pull away, with no such luck. impulse gets the better of him. he takes another step closer and leans in. “you can tell me to fuck off now.”
He’s not a cheat, but Spirit is. This isn’t like that, though. There’s a shared understanding beginning to form — one that it’s taking far too long for Spirit and Jack to wrap their heads around. Spirit is only wary because she expects this to go poorly as soon as it’s out in the open — but what if being honest is exactly what they need?
“I love doing exactly what I want, when I want it. If I’m going to be really serious with you. And that’s hard to do, because people usually don’t like the things that I want to do.” She smiles a knowing, bitter smile.
“I want you close. I want you to do anything but fuck off.” Her arms loop around his neck. She hums at the warmth.
“But I want a lot more. I always want more.”
