THE ARK
The Ark smirks back at him, amusement holding fast in the depths of her gaze now that the world feels a little more even beneath them. Not safe, not solved, and certainly not clean, but steadier than it had been with the Feverlands clinging to Jack's skin. She lifts one shoulder in a careless shrug, though the look she pins him with is teasing. "I’ve never known your hands to be anything other than steady," she counters.
As he tucks the chair back beneath the desk, neat as though the shattered glass and blood and swamp filth had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience, her chin lifts to keep him in her field of view. Only when he stops beside her does she lower it, allowing the brief press of his lips to her hair. Sunlight scatters across the waters of her thoughts at the touch, warm and golden, while a breeze moves through her in time with the cool brush of his fingers against the back of her neck.
"I’ll be here," she says softly. And so she will. While he makes his way to the bunk, while the cabin settles around them, while the ship cuts north with the Feverlands falling farther behind, The Ark remains where she is. The sound of the sea keeps close, threaded through the boards and the air and the quiet space between them, and she stays until Jack’s breathing finally deepens into something slow and rhythmic.
~FIN
As he tucks the chair back beneath the desk, neat as though the shattered glass and blood and swamp filth had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience, her chin lifts to keep him in her field of view. Only when he stops beside her does she lower it, allowing the brief press of his lips to her hair. Sunlight scatters across the waters of her thoughts at the touch, warm and golden, while a breeze moves through her in time with the cool brush of his fingers against the back of her neck.
"I’ll be here," she says softly. And so she will. While he makes his way to the bunk, while the cabin settles around them, while the ship cuts north with the Feverlands falling farther behind, The Ark remains where she is. The sound of the sea keeps close, threaded through the boards and the air and the quiet space between them, and she stays until Jack’s breathing finally deepens into something slow and rhythmic.
~FIN
everything I want you know i'm going to get it
whether it's your fame or your cableknit sweater
you might've done it first but I know i'll do it better
whether it's your fame or your cableknit sweater
you might've done it first but I know i'll do it better
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.
