bottom line, we made it out the first time still in love and half alive
Her eyes land on the ice cream first, and the shape her mouth makes is small and knowing, amusement curling there. Whether he’d found it or taken it hardly matters; both feel equally likely, and she doesn’t bother pretending she isn't delighted to see it. "Oh, was there?" she murmurs as she sinks down onto the sand before him in one smooth motion, her body folding easily into place, belonging just as much at his side as she had in the sea.
When she reaches for the cone, there’s no hesitation in it, only the easy expectation of someone who has never had to question whether he’d think of her, and the appreciation that follows is just as natural, just as unforced. Whatever Jack is to the rest of the world—bastard, murderer, ruthless businessman—she’s never known him to forget her place in it.
The candied lemon peel goes first, her teeth catching it lightly as she pulls it free, and the sourness hits sharp and immediate, bright enough to draw a quiet breath from her as her mouth waters, the sensation almost aching in the best way. She smiles around it, slow and satisfied, before her tongue follows, circling the top of the ice cream in an unhurried sweep, tasting it properly this time.
"I did," she says, glancing up at him through lashes still damp from the sea, the answer still carrying the echo of everything she’d just stepped out of. Her nose wrinkles faintly a moment later, the expression small but distinct, her attention drifting briefly back toward the water before returning to him. "It’s clear Hadama’s gone back to the underwater city," she adds, the thought coloured with a note of mild disapproval. "Everything’s so..." she searches for the word, then finds it with a slight tilt of her head, "…orderly."
When she reaches for the cone, there’s no hesitation in it, only the easy expectation of someone who has never had to question whether he’d think of her, and the appreciation that follows is just as natural, just as unforced. Whatever Jack is to the rest of the world—bastard, murderer, ruthless businessman—she’s never known him to forget her place in it.
The candied lemon peel goes first, her teeth catching it lightly as she pulls it free, and the sourness hits sharp and immediate, bright enough to draw a quiet breath from her as her mouth waters, the sensation almost aching in the best way. She smiles around it, slow and satisfied, before her tongue follows, circling the top of the ice cream in an unhurried sweep, tasting it properly this time.
"I did," she says, glancing up at him through lashes still damp from the sea, the answer still carrying the echo of everything she’d just stepped out of. Her nose wrinkles faintly a moment later, the expression small but distinct, her attention drifting briefly back toward the water before returning to him. "It’s clear Hadama’s gone back to the underwater city," she adds, the thought coloured with a note of mild disapproval. "Everything’s so..." she searches for the word, then finds it with a slight tilt of her head, "…orderly."
we didn't die, but no guarantees this time, but fuck it lets do it again
Siren's Wake | After she leaves a space, traces of her presence linger briefly: a faint scent of salt, the sound of distant water, a restless feeling in the chest. People rarely notice it consciously.
