bottom line, we made it out the first time still in love and half alive
The Ark lets her tongue drag slowly along the curve of the ice cream again, unhurried, indulgent in the sharp bite of citrus as it blooms across her mouth, the sourness bright enough to make her hum softly under her breath as she settles further into the sand. The taste lingers, something she rolls around on her tongue before swallowing, her attention drifting briefly toward the water as it glows and shifts, before sliding back to Jack.
"Mm," she says, as though agreeing with something he hasn’t quite finished saying, though her thoughts have already moved ahead of the moment. "The merfolk are always the first to find things." Her fingers turn the cone idly, watching the faint drip of it before catching it with her tongue again, the movement absent in a way that suggests she’s only half paying attention to it now. "Wrecks. Cargo. Anything tossed overboard and forgotten." Her shoulders lift in a small, careless shrug, but there’s nothing careless in her eyes when they return to him, blue gone darker, sharper, carrying something that glints just beneath the surface.
"Some of it’s probably worth more now than it ever was when it went down," she adds, her voice smoothing out, quieter but more deliberate, as if she’s already begun to turn the idea over properly. "Things people would pay well to see again. Things they’d swear were lost for good. Things they wanted to stay lost for good." Her gaze fixes on him fully then, her head tipping just slightly to the side, the angle making the look feel more like a question even though she doesn’t phrase it as one.
He’d taken her from the water and given her the sky, stretched her reach far beyond what she’d been built for. There’s something in her expression now that suggests she might want the same kind of expansion again, only in the opposite direction. "Such a shame," she murmurs, almost idly, though the intent beneath it is anything but, "to leave all of that sitting untouched."
"Mm," she says, as though agreeing with something he hasn’t quite finished saying, though her thoughts have already moved ahead of the moment. "The merfolk are always the first to find things." Her fingers turn the cone idly, watching the faint drip of it before catching it with her tongue again, the movement absent in a way that suggests she’s only half paying attention to it now. "Wrecks. Cargo. Anything tossed overboard and forgotten." Her shoulders lift in a small, careless shrug, but there’s nothing careless in her eyes when they return to him, blue gone darker, sharper, carrying something that glints just beneath the surface.
"Some of it’s probably worth more now than it ever was when it went down," she adds, her voice smoothing out, quieter but more deliberate, as if she’s already begun to turn the idea over properly. "Things people would pay well to see again. Things they’d swear were lost for good. Things they wanted to stay lost for good." Her gaze fixes on him fully then, her head tipping just slightly to the side, the angle making the look feel more like a question even though she doesn’t phrase it as one.
He’d taken her from the water and given her the sky, stretched her reach far beyond what she’d been built for. There’s something in her expression now that suggests she might want the same kind of expansion again, only in the opposite direction. "Such a shame," she murmurs, almost idly, though the intent beneath it is anything but, "to leave all of that sitting untouched."
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.
