Sink With Me

A heavy sigh breaks my trance, forcing my hands to push against the gloved one and placing a bandage on my throat. Of course, the ghost that haunts me had to come back only to make that infuriating noise.

“There you are little siren. I was getting worried you officially lost your mind.” Caspian grins at my narrowed eyes as I realize it was him drawing out the sound. A sharp pain vibrates through my chest to my fingers, with an unnatural pop echoing in my ears. My fist raises to the woman who steps pushing past Tide with a scowl across her features.

She’s lucky I didn’t do more damage than just a swat, especially since she just put my shoulder back in place without warning. Don’t people usually count down?

Caspians hands cup my cheeks forcing my focus on the deep v between his brows, hooding those gorgeous green eyes. How is he not more irritable, confused, or anything but concerned?

“What’s going through that pretty little head?” He mumbles, and his thumb traces my cheekbone in a soothing motion. The clacking of metal bars makes me peer over his shoulder to Sam’s beat-red face secured to a gurney facing the ceiling, and Jasmine trailing a distance away from it.

“Where’s Moe?”

“He’s fine. I checked on him after I cleaned up a mess that wasn’t yours for once.”

I nod, not believing he’s the least bit ‘fine’. Caspian is just trying to lighten the mood, but it’s not going to work this time. I push off the chair, forcing him to drop his hands from my face. The kiss was simply adrenalin. I can accept that. What I can’t accept is the unknown. He straightens his shoulders and reaches for me again, but I carefully step behind the seat to put some space between us. I love him. Not in a way as I cared for Daymen or in the manipulated way I felt towards Dutton and Karma. But the way, I’d willingly risk my life, accept my death, only to turn around and live for him.

“What happens now?”

He scrunches his nose and jolts his head back in confusion, acting like I just asked if the sky was green. I place my hands on the back of the chair, chipping my nail along the splintered wood. Soft pattering hits the metal roof, following a crack of thunder in the distance. It’s a coincidence the sky mirrors my internal storm.

“Now…” He draws in a deep breath, “We go back to base and preferably get you a bath. Maybe even some food?”

I gawk at him with my brows pulled low and my lips parted. He shouldn’t be acting so nonchalant. I took so many innocent lives for the wrong reason, including his father’s. I’m a little pissed about the bath comment too. I’d like to see him kill five men, crash a plane, be held at knifepoint, and come out without a fleck of grime or smell like freshly picked flowers. He steps closer, raising his knee to rest on the seat, his hands clasping over mine.

“I never planned on letting you go, little siren. Just try not to kill me anymore alright?”

“What about Moe? Sam? Your base? Everything I’ve done.” I take a breath, pulling my hands out from under his. “What about Bay? What about my broken head?” each word comes out faster than the last jumbling incoherently. I like plans, I like routine and knowing what comes next. I don’t like how nothing has gone the way it was supposed to since the moment I met him. I don’t like how each thought I attempt to have is muffled by another voice. My breathing shallows. It’s like sitting in a boat caught in the middle of a storm rocking close enough to the water only to pop back up and tilt again.

He laughs. He fucking laughs. The type that rumbles from deep within his chest and has him clutching his side. I grip the back of the chair and weakly throw it in his direction. As expected, he dodges it. Asshole.

“I’m sorry.” Even though he apologizes he continues to stifle the annoyingly perfect noise by brushing his hand down his face.

“Moe will be okay, I promise. Sam has been through worse, trust me. My base would look a little better with some more blue in it.” He starts to walk towards me until his boots are kissing my toes. “Now as for you–I want to keep you, ‘broken head and all’. So what will it take for you to stay?”

My heart unnaturally swells, but for once I don’t try to push it back into a small cage.

“A bath, a glass of wine, Game of Thrones, and some pickles will do.”

“You sure you don’t want the world?”

“Keep it spinning and I think we’ll be okay.”

“Deal.”

I yelp as he scoops me, wrapping my arms around his neck so I’m cradled close to his chest.

Thank God, because my feet have been through enough.

Date: 5-17-2024

Time: unknown

“Cordelia.”

I groan, throwing a rather harsh punch into the closest object. I highly doubt I was asleep for longer than five minutes, which is a crime in itself. The body below me shifts with creaking leather following the motion.

“Told ya she wasn’t gonna wake up. Ya should’ve just taken her back to the room.”

“She’s not getting our sheets dirty. I’ll just wait.”