21. Chapter Twenty-One #2
We don’t kill without reason. We kill those who are a threat to us.
Sighing, I wade into the water without hurry, letting the water take more of my weight, until it is deep enough for me to float.
I lay back, stretching my arms out wide.
Water slips into my ears and dulls the world around me, until it all narrows down to my shallow breathing.
Above me, the fog is still fighting with the sun.
Deep down, I know that this is not the sea that will trigger my shift.
But I owed it to myself to try. These waters don’t feel like home, but they ground me all the same.
A smile spreads across my face. How freeing it feels to swim without expecting something to happen.
Maybe it is in these moments where changes sneak up on you, because you have stopped seeking them out, because you have stopped forcing it, and allowed it to happen naturally.
My thoughts circle back to the brooding pirate captain that I have tried to avoid thinking about too much this whole morning.
The way he stepped in front of me protectively.
The way his hand curled around mine. The feeling of his arm around my waist. I let the sea lift me, then lower me again. I wish it was more simple.
Hating him would be so much simpler.
Frustrated, I force my body upright. I wade toward the shore at a faster pace than before, my legs fighting against the water to reach the shore. My foot catches on a rock, and I stagger, arms lifting to steady myself. Teeth clenched, I push through and step out of the surf with a sharp splash.
That’s when I see him.
Sable sits on a rock just beyond the reach of the tide.
One knee is drawn up, his weight settled like he's been there a while.
Watching. An apple rests in his hand. He slices into it with his dagger, calm and precise, and eats a piece of it straight from the blade as he watches me intensely, with an air of nonchalance.
His eyes linger on mine, then lower towards my breast, my waist, and finally, the short curls showing between my thighs.
“You’re a prick,” I mutter, staggering through the soft sand towards the rock I had placed my gown on. It gives way beneath my feet, stealing what little grace I have.
He shrugs. “I’m a pirate.”
I glare at him as I reach for my chemise and throw it over my head, letting the soft fabric slip over my body.
“How long have you been here?”
“Your instincts aren’t the sharpest.” A smug grin spreads over his stupid, handsome face as he cuts another piece of apple.
Heat flares up my spine as I lift my chin and meet his gaze head-on.
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“I‘ve been here for…well,” He furrows his brows and glances away briefly, putting on a show of thinking. “The whole time.”
I reach for my gown next and put it on, before pulling the strings of the bodice tight. Too tight, my annoyance getting the better of me.
Bloody pirates.
“And why,” I ask as I cross my arms over my chest, fingers digging into the fabric, “would you spy on me like that?”
“Grim told me you were here. I wanted to check on you,” he says, and there’s no hint of untruth in his voice. The honesty of it catches me off guard. This newfound openness must be something he is trying lately, to combat his usual grumpiness.
I narrow my eyes on him. “You mean to make sure that I don’t disappear into the sea?”
For a moment, neither of us speaks. The salt air brushes against my cheek, carrying the scent of brine and wet stone, and lifts strands of his ink-dark hair so they fall forward over his brows, throwing a shadow across his face.
“No,” he finally says, still watching me. Not blinking. Not looking away. “To make sure you’re okay. After yesterday.”
Deep within my stomach, a knot starts to form, and I press down on it with both hands in the hopes of quelling it. I watch him as he gets up and throws the remaining apple into the waves.
Thrusts his dagger into its mount.
Slides down the rock with ease.
Strides over to me.
I go dizzy and almost lose my footing when he reaches for my bodice.
His fingers slip beneath the crossed strings, careful but sure, and gently tug until the pressure eases.
My chest feels lighter with every pull, the tightness loosening where I hadn’t realized it was stealing my breath.
He finishes loosening them, fingers lingering just long enough to make my pulse stutter.
Our eyes meet and I swallow hard. They remind me of the fog still clinging to the shore.
Dark. Calm. We stare at one another, words balancing there on the edge of our open mouths, reluctant to be spoken.
The muscles in his face are loose, his expression unreadable.
His breath meets mine in the air between us. We linger.
Suddenly all too aware of how close we stand, I break my gaze from his, clearing my throat. I take a step back, brushing my hands over my gown.
“I am okay, Captain,” I mutter, stepping behind him to put distance between us before I do something foolish.
He clears his throat too, mirroring me. “Then why are you trying to suffocate yourself with your gown?”
“I am okay,” I snap, already turning away from him and heading toward the rocks. “Don’t you worry. You will not lose your precious Glim-summoning little fish.”
To my surprise, a deep laugh breaks out of him.
It’s rough and unrestrained, nothing like the sharp edge he usually carries in his voice.
When I glance over my shoulder, it strips the severity from his face entirely, softens him in a way that I haven’t seen before.
My mouth pulls into a smile before I can stop it.
I turn back and begin to climb, placing my foot carefully against the uneven stone. I reach for the next rock above me when something dark bobs into view on a passing wave. I narrow my eyes, leaning forward.
Black.
A hat.
A tricorn hat.
His hat.
The very hat he lost when he dragged me from the Sea of Renewal.
I don’t hesitate and slip down the rocks along the edge of the bay until my feet sink into damp sand, cold water rushing over my ankles.
I reach down and lift the hat from the surface, water streaming from its brim as I turn it over in my hands.
The leather is rough beneath my fingers, worn by the water and the salt, marked by its time in the sea. But it still maintains its shape nonetheless. At the front, a golden metal emblem is stitched into it, dulled slightly by the elements. Two crossed swords appear to slice through a skull.
“That’s mine,” he says behind me with a breathy, disbelieving laugh. He rushes to retrieve it from me, arm outstretched and waiting to snatch it from me.
I spin around and clasp the hat behind my back, out of his reach.
“But I found it,” I shoot back. “What is the pirate saying again? Take what you can and give nothing back, right?”
He glares at me, exhaling through his nose. The frustration is written all over his face, and I enjoy the sight of it, devour it even. That smile finds my lips again.
“You have no use for it,” he says, extending his hand further toward me, palm open.
“I can wear it, ” I counter, lifting my chin.
He steps forward.
I step back.
I don’t want to give it to him. I don’t even want to wear his stupid hat. I want this one small victory after he just spied on me without shame.
“Fine,” he says eventually, exhaling and rolling his eyes. “But I wouldn’t wear it in front of the crew. They’ll either think something is happening between us or that you mean to assert dominance. One of which is sure to result in them throwing you overboard. Now, come.”
He nods toward the Noctis, visible beyond the curve of the bay.
At the mention of something between us, heat flares up inside me and rushes straight to my cheeks.
Either he pretends not to notice this, or he simply doesn’t care.
He doesn’t react at all. Instead, he turns and starts climbing the slick rocks with an effortlessness I can only envy.
I curl my fingers around the soaked hat and follow him back up along the rocks and onto the dock. The Noctis waits ahead of us, lines drawn tight and the crew readying the ship for our departure.
Sable boards first. I stop at the foot of the plank.
He doesn't look back right away. Only when he reaches the top of the gangplank does he turn to me. For a moment, I let myself stand there. The island at my back. The sea at my side. The ship in front of me. Sable in front of me.
I draw a breath and set the hat on top of my head, then step onto the plank. The wood creaks beneath my weight as I walk up to the ship and toward him without a word, pausing for a brief moment when I reach his side. From the corner of my eye, I can see a smile tugging at his lips.
“Looks better on you anyway, little fish,” he whispers into my ear. I roll my eyes and continue walking further onto the deck.
I do not look back, but I don’t need to know his eyes are on me anyway.