i see nothing better, i'll keep him forever, like a vendetta
The Ark watches him break the surface with an attention too sharp to pass for casual. Colour has already returned beneath the water shining on his skin, his eyes have lost their fevered haze, and the breath expanding his chest no longer catches against whatever the Feverlands left festering inside him. Only then do the waters of her mind ease, the restless pull beneath them going quiet now that her Captain looks like himself again.
Her mouth curves when he reaches for her. She lets his arm draw her in, though there is hardly any effort required on his part; she is already flowing into the space against him, answering the pull like a current drawn toward shore. Her arms settle around his neck, and her fingers comb into his soaked hair before closing around a handful of it. The small tug she gives is deliberate, measuring how long it has grown.
"Haircut after breakfast?" The Ark arches a brow at him, amusement warming the thought even as her fingers remain tangled at the nape of his neck. Jack’s name carries far enough through Torchline that he doesn’t need to arrive looking respectable to remind anyone who he is. Still, there is no reason to advertise that he has recently been gnawed on by oversized swamp vermin and nearly carved open by a walking skull equipped with knives.
Her mouth curves when he reaches for her. She lets his arm draw her in, though there is hardly any effort required on his part; she is already flowing into the space against him, answering the pull like a current drawn toward shore. Her arms settle around his neck, and her fingers comb into his soaked hair before closing around a handful of it. The small tug she gives is deliberate, measuring how long it has grown.
"Haircut after breakfast?" The Ark arches a brow at him, amusement warming the thought even as her fingers remain tangled at the nape of his neck. Jack’s name carries far enough through Torchline that he doesn’t need to arrive looking respectable to remind anyone who he is. Still, there is no reason to advertise that he has recently been gnawed on by oversized swamp vermin and nearly carved open by a walking skull equipped with knives.
i see how this is gonna go, touch me and you'll never be alone
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.
