Chapter 53
Chapter Fifty-Three
TALLY
I wake up like yesterday, alone in bed. Unlike yesterday, I can hear Cyrus in the room. Rustling about and mumbling to herself.
The fresh sheets wrap around me as I roll over.
Cyrus stands over an open chest, a mess of books and fabrics laying on the floor around her.
A shirt is flung over her chest, still undone, giving me a perfect view of her cleavage.
And when she turns to the side, the hem of the shirt grazes the bottom of her arse cheeks, making her legs appear even longer than normal and tempting me to jump her.
I watch her stare at the mess, pleasure zipping through me even though she’s actively doing nothing right now.
“What do I have to do to get you back in bed?”
She jumps as I speak, swinging around to face me. Whatever was bothering her before is overtaken by a delicate grin. “You’re awake, good morning.”
“Hmm, good morning, now get back in bed.”
She has the cheek to shake her head at me.
“Did you just say no?” That grin becomes a smirk, whilst I look at her, bewildered.
She picks an item up from the floor, examining it before dropping it again and picking up something else. “I did, and you’re getting out of bed to help me.”
I gasp. “You’ll be dragging me out of bed kicking and screaming.”
She throws whatever scrap of fabric she's holding at me. “You’ll get up willingly, once you realise I’m trying to pack up my shit so I can stay here. But if you really want to stay in bed… I guess I’ll have to leave with the ship.”
She doesn’t even have to finish her sentence before I’m up on my knees, pulling on the shirt she threw at me. Elation pours through me that she isn’t holding off, she’s fully prepared to pack up her life and move to the island with me. To stay with me.
“What are we packing then?"
The grin at my question lights up her face, her eyes glinting. “Everything.”
It’s only when I go to stand, I realise how much of a mess the floor is. “It looks more like making a mess.”
She sighs, throwing her head back between her shoulders as she drops whatever she was holding.
And damn, dramatic Cyrus is seriously adorable.
Why the hell was she hiding it under that stupid facade?
I understand her reasoning for shutting things out, but this attitude right here? It’s a crime to keep it hidden.
“I know it’s a mess. I started pulling things out, but I thought I should prioritise things I actually need; as I only have one chest and didn’t want to leave to find another one. Then one thing led to another and it's a mess.” Her hands wave about as she rattles on.
Hiding my smirk behind my hand, trying desperately to conceal the laugh threatening to bubble out.
She points her finger at me. “Do not laugh, Tally. You love me, which means you now have to help me.”
Raising my hands in surrender, “Okay, okay. No laughing.” Even though a few giggles still slip free. “How about, I fold up these clothes neatly and pack them. And then you can figure out what other things you want to take.”
She huffs. “But it’s not all going to fit in this.”
This time, I can’t stop the giggle from slipping out. “It’s okay, we can make piles. We still have time before they leave. Once the chest is full, we can take it back to the inn. Then we can come back and immediately load the next lot in. Sound good?”
She crosses over to me, not minding the crumbled clothing on the floor. “That sounds–” Her hands lift to frame my face. “Perfect.”
She presses her lips to mine, nothing rushed or lustful about it. Just pure adoration and love between the soft press of our mouths.
When we part, I start barking out my orders. “Okay, start packing your valuables.” Cyrus struts off, collecting a few random trinkets that are dotted around her room.
I bend down and start on the mass of clothing on the floor.
The room isn’t huge but it’s also not small, and every square inch of flooring is covered in fabric.
“I didn’t realise you owned so many clothes, dove.
” I pick up the first item, a flowing skirt that I could never even picture her in, let alone owning.
She flutters around the room, barely concentrating on the actual task at hand. “To be honest, most of it’s stolen loot. I take what fits me, I usually don’t need it, but you never know when I might need something.”
“Oh so you’re a hoarder.” She casts me a wry look, but I make a mental note to use some of these fabrics to make into clothing she’ll actually wear.
The morning rolls on smoothly, me folding up clothes into piles and Cyrus deciding which trinkets and personal items she actually wants.
By the time we have the first chest filled and the rest sorted into organised piles to transport later, my stomach is rioting. Cyrus isn’t much better than me, getting more pouty with the hungrier she got. We pause to head to lunch before making the first trip to the inn with her things.
By the fourth trip, I'm exhausted.
She has so much stuff. It’s overflowing in my still ash cladded bedroom at the inn. We’ll have to utilise another room just for the sheer mass of her things. She has more clothes than I’ve ever seen her wear, more weapons than I can count, and enough trinkets to fill a museum.
At least her quarters on the ship are starting to actually look empty.
After the first run, we grabbed another chest to use from the inn. Using one would have taken us the whole week before the ship leaves to clear things out. Now we stand in her almost bare room, with two overflowing chests.
Joy has mostly radiated off Cyrus as we’ve been moving everything. But filling up the last of her things, has put her in a dower mood.
I do my best to fill the silence, making jokes and taking over the majority of the packing, whilst she paces and stares blankly at walls.
It’s only after I’ve packed the last of her things, I start to realise the reason she’s staring at the walls. She’s avoiding making eye contact with me. I try to not jump to conclusions– try not to think she’s sad about leaving the ship– but there’s only so much my heart will listen to my head.
She stays staring out the window for a long time, before I’m brave enough to ask her. “Cyrus, are you okay?”
She, not so subtly, wipes her face. Her voice croaky as she answers. “Of course.”
My heart drops, maybe she’s changed her mind? “No more secrets, remember? Talk to me.”
When she turns, I feel myself shatter. Tears streak down her cheeks, eyes red and puffy.
Even though I have a million thoughts racing through my head– that this is my fault, I could have prevented this by not pushing her– I rush up and hold her tight. Burying my face into her chest.
Her arms wrap around me, squeezing me tighter than I hold her, letting out a quiet sob. “I’m happy to be moving, to be staying here with you. It just all feels a bit sad too.”
I squeeze her tighter, holding her as physically close as possible. “I understand, Cyrus.” And I think I do.
“This has been the first proper home I’ve had since I was a child. I never thought I’d leave it, not when my whole life revolved around these people. Seeing this room empty…”
She trails off and now I fully understand. She’s upset because she’s leaving the place she only ever felt at home. Leaving a place that moves around so often, she doesn’t know when she’ll next see her family.
“I get it, Cyrus. This is your home and family. It’s allowed to feel bittersweet.”
“Yeah, bittersweet.”
She stays silent after that, holding tight and letting herself cry.
I feel every moment of her pain, but also her happiness. Her words were a balm to the burn I initially thought this was. She’s excited to be here, it’s just a lot for someone who never had a home, watched their family die, only to find both and choose to leave.
We both know though, that if she ever wanted back on this ship, all she would have to do is say. And the Burnt Bones will be back, they’re always docking here, they’ll only start stopping by more now.
We’ll see her family often and she’ll have the option of making another one here too.
We stay holding each other for a while, until Cyrus’s eyes dry up. When she eventually pulls back, her eyes are still red and puffy, but her smile is blinding. Her full rows of teeth showing between her plump lips. Even tear-stained, she’s so beautiful.
I’m so damn lucky to call her mine.
Laying a soft kiss on her lips, I can feel her grin through the kiss.
We pull away and that grin is still in place. She takes a moment to wipe her face down, trying to wash away her sadness. When she looks back at me, her eyes sparkle like the night sky. “Let’s finish this shit, shall we?”