week 12 | when Jack is deda
I will simply put my faith in you once more.
One last time.
[ Fridays were rolling together far more quickly than she would have imagined. Two had passed and now, Elizabeth feels alone. She was in the dark, completely with what had happened. Loved ones on the ship as the final hours began ticking. Everything had shut off like little stars dimming themselves goodnight before the sun rises.
Elizabeth knew Rhys was gone and she feels a burden on her chest. She doesn't want anyone to worry about her - no one at all. Adelina, Hancock, hell - even Bull probably took a worry with her after her untimely death and she doesn't... want that. She wasn't a little girl, not anymore.
She sits on the springy, dry cot that situates itself in the corner of her cabin. It was lonely, but then again - was she ever really not lonely? Her whole life can be summed up to people leaving her or people living her alone.
Elizabeth hadn't the heart to venture out - to ask who joined them in the graveyard. One? Two? Who knew how many could be slaughtered as long as those creatures still roamed free. She had requested one thing - a notepad to draw lazily against. Her pencil drags in abstract shapes, blossoming flowers and flying birds daring to jolt off the page.
She was fine with this, she thinks. She served her purpose to help the others and she prays, oh, as her head lays down and she murmurs to herself - she prays for everyone aboard the Pygmalion. ]
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Things weren't simple anymore. This complexity and intricacy of her relationship with Jack pains her in ways that she can't explain. She was ready to drive a knife through his heart and feel his blood drip against her hands. She was ready to smother him in his sleep. She was ready to channel all of her pain and suffering into one moment where she accepts her morality - to allow temptation and sin to consume her.
Elizabeth abandoned that hope. She knows that's... not the way. She can't. As Jack plays his vulnerability truthfully, feeling his guilt consume him in the same way she wanted him too. She's satisfied. Selfishly, knowing that she'll never hear Comstock in this way. Jack wasn't Comstock (she knows this now), but it'll do. ]
Thank you.
[ Was all she says, allowing him to hold her as she held him. It's an intense, physical moment. More physical than she had ever experienced. It's raw, it's enigmatic, and it's intense. Emotions were dripping between them and all Elizabeth knew was that she wanted to feel this moment - feel him truly come to terms with his own pain as she accepted hers as well.
It had to be a good five minutes of her stroking at the back of his head and neck, beginning to cry on her own accord as well. As if this moment was so delicious and so prized it brought the tears to her eyes. Elizabeth was a good girl, she thought once upon a time, but now? It scares her. Her justification of seeing him express himself like this...
...Did she impact him this much or did the truth? ]
It'll be alright.