it's not your fault that you're always wrong
Jack can forever admire Nerissa for her facades. She is still water, is this mer, running deep and revealing nothing at all unless you know exactly where to look, and the smuggler slants a smile her way. ”I cause trouble when I’m bored. Better there ain’t a dull moment here,” he mutters, watching the hand that brushes along his jaw with the same amount of trust one would give to a venomous snake coiling around their arm.
”That’s a mercy. The sickness causes fever and hallucinations, so I’d dread to think what the mers would do under a delirium,” he drawls, before shaking his head. ”None have been affected. But the Hanged Man got fucked by monsoons, so their usual waterin’ hole needs a renovation. I hear tell Raza might be kittin’ it out to suit the mers. Perhaps you and I can see even more of each other in the near future.”
”That’s a mercy. The sickness causes fever and hallucinations, so I’d dread to think what the mers would do under a delirium,” he drawls, before shaking his head. ”None have been affected. But the Hanged Man got fucked by monsoons, so their usual waterin’ hole needs a renovation. I hear tell Raza might be kittin’ it out to suit the mers. Perhaps you and I can see even more of each other in the near future.”
