“This place is a fucking maze…” You growl as you run, Killer only a few steps behind you. The halls of the marine base were confusing and seemed to have no clear pattern to them. That, or the adrenaline currently coursing through your veins was just causing you to lose all sense of direction.
“Or you just don’t know where you’re going.” Was your masked companion’s biting reply. You manage to fix him with a steely glare even while still being pursued by the group of marines calling for your blood 30 paces back. You wished you could see the way his stupid face behind that mask looked so you could punch it.
“Shut up and keep running!”
“Go left.” He points up ahead towards a branching hallway.
“Why that way? Straight is our best bet!”
“Because the ship is west, and we’re running north!”
Ugh!
“Fine!” You gripe, veering left and plunging headfirst down the hall. Killer gains ground and now leads your wild escape through the interior of the base. A fact you aren’t particularly thrilled about, but you’d save your breath on getting the hell out of here first, you guess.
There’s no end in sight, and unfortunately, you begin to hear the tell-tale signs of more marines from somewhere up ahead of you. At this rate, you’d be cornered between two groups of marines with nowhere to go. The both of you come to the same conclusion together, and stop midway down the hallway.
“I guess we’ll have to fight our way out.” He swears under his breath.
“That’s an idiotic plan. We’re severely outnumbered.” You bite back.
“We’re kind of out of options here, Y/N.”
Eyes searching frantically, you scan the nearby doors for some sign of what they might hold behind it, but alas, they’re all just as nondescript as the next. Frustration and adrenaline rising, you throw your hands up and let out a noise of irritation.
Making the executive decision, you roughly grab Killer’s arm and the knob to the door closest to you. Ripping it open, you shove him inside none too gently, causing him to bump into something on the inside and curse at you. The next moment, you squeeze inside and shut the door behind you, locking it for good measure and plunging the both of you into darkness. At first, it’s too dim to see where the two of you had even ended up, but as your eyes adjust to the lack of light, and the tightness of the space becomes more apparent, you realize.
A supply closet. Great. And of course you’re stuck in such tight spaces with the man you could barely stand. Was this how you died? Cornered in a South Blue Marine Base supply closet? You’d haunt Killer for all eternity if so.
“Quit squirming around.” Killer mutters in a hiss as you shimmy and move so that you can try finding a more comfortable position to stand. The space is narrow, and with your size and his broadness, it’s not exactly roomy. “Do you want us to get caught?”
“Me?” Your gaze swings to the vague outline of him in the dark, and your arms cross. Try as you might, it doesn’t seem like there’s any way to not be touching him in this tiny closet. The places where your body touches him feel itchy and uncomfortable. “You’re the one with the bright idea to infiltrate the base to begin with. We wouldn’t be here if not for you.”
“They had intel we needed.” He ground out in a harsh whisper. “It was a smart plan, if we’d actually been able to execute it without problems. Like someone deciding to trip an alarm because you couldn’t keep your thieving hands to yourself!”
You open your mouth to retort, but a large commotion silences you. From the muffled voices, you realize that both groups of marines had met one another halfway down the hall, just outside your door, and were discussing your whereabouts. Killer stood as still as possible, mask trained on the door. You could feel his arm tense, blade ready to go should they start using their brains and attempt to open the door.
Forced into silence but still pissed off at him, you resort to glaring and thinking all of the negative thoughts. Perhaps if you felt them hard enough, they’d telepathically translate in his head and he’d know what an ass he was.
Insufferable, pig-headed, arrogant bastard!
Unfortunately you don’t possess the ability to project your thoughts, and so he stands there unaffected by your stewing irritation with him. Too preoccupied listening to the marines outside, or just intentionally ignoring you. Somehow, that thought was infinitely more annoying.
You shift, trying to reach for your weapon as well—you were still deciding if it was to prepare for a possible marine infiltration or you’d just whack Killer with it instead. His mask flickers to face you and he grabs your shoulder in a tight grip.
“Stop moving.” He whispers furiously, but you only try yanking yourself out of his grip. He lets you go, then focuses back on the door in case the noise had caught anyone’s attention. However, the marines beyond continued to report as normal, your shuffling gone unnoticed.
Soon enough the two groups came to a new plan, and went separate ways once more. You hadn’t been paying enough attention to have an idea of what they’d decided. All you cared about now was getting the hell out of here and back to the ship. You had a choice few words for your Captain about being paired up with his first mate ever again.
A minute or two of silence persisted outside of the door, until you reached over to unlock it. Another 30 seconds of waiting, with only the quiet as answer. Readying your weapon, you reach for the knob and yank the door open in a rush, Nothing came up to attack you, and the lack of shouting meant no one had heard you either.
No point waiting around for someone to fight. Without so much as a glance at the man who held your ire at the moment, you took off down the hallway, resuming your search for the exit once more. And, when that fails, Killer resorts to busing a window on the western side of the building. He doesn’t bother waiting for you and jumps out onto the pavement beyond it. You huff, using your weapon to clear out more of the glass since he hadn’t made enough room for you to get out.
He stood waiting outside with crossed arms, as if impatient. He didn’t bother doing anything other than watch. You flip him your middle finger and finally make it through to the other side yourself.
“Thanks for the help, asshole.”
“You managed, didn’t you?” The bastard even sounded bored about it.
Oh, you’d wring his neck when you got back to the ship. “I hate you.”
“Likewise. Now, keep up.”
It takes a few moments for the dull ringing in your ears to fade and the rest of your senses to return. The aches and pain didn’t hit until a few seconds after, and you grimace at the way your leg throbbed and stung.
“Fuck me…” You mutter, out of breath and coughing out puffs of dirt and dust that had made their way into your mouth. On shaky and painful limbs, you prop yourself on to sit up, eyes adjusting to take in your situation.
The cave had collapsed, by the looks of it. Only the dull blue illumination of the strange mushrooms that covered the walls allowed you to see anything at all. That damn treasure chest had been booby trapped, just like you’d suspected, sending everything tumbling down around you. You blink, taking a second to get your breath back, before you suddenly realize you hadn’t been alone.
You spot Killer’s unconscious form a few feet away. For a second, you only stare. Serves him right for triggering the trap you’d explicitly told him was likely there, you think. Then, you sigh. Kid would be devastated if his first mate and best friend were to die. And as much as you disliked the guy, you didn’t necessarily want him dead. He was useful in a fight and cooked a decent plate of spaghetti.
Shuffling over on your knees, you place a hand on his arm and shake none too gently.
“Hey.” Your voice is hoarse and scratchy, and you cough a few more times to clear it. “Killer, get up.”
It takes a bit of shaking to finally rouse him, but he comes to in a similar fashion to yourself. The mask shakes back and forth slowly as he gets his bearings. You hear him groan as he sits up himself, looking around at the small space the two of you currently were currently enclosed in. You hear his heavy sigh, and can’t help the glare.
“For the record, I blame this on you.”
He doesn’t deign to respond to your verbal barb, and instead takes better stock of your situation. He tries to stand, but can’t make it more than a few feet above his head before his mask thuds against the top layer of rock, sending several skittering down over you. The structure’s integrity was in question, and the possibility of collapsing what little space you have left leaves you both hesitant to go battering at the walls.
With a groan, he eases back down and sits. “Not a big space.” He mutters. “Which means not a lot of air.”
You pause, looking around and seeing your peril a little closer. You hold up a hand and keep it there, waiting to feel any sort of breeze cross your skin. But the air remains stale and still, chilly despite the hot summer’s day that had raged on the island you’d resided on. How deep in the ground were you?
Things were looking bleaker by the second, and your anger surges and rages alongside your creeping fear that this was the end, that you’d die here in a hole in the ground and no one would know where to look for you. Instinct wanted you to yell at your unfortunate companion, take him by the shoulders and shake him until his head spun, rip off that mask of his and give him a good punch.
At the very least you could get out all the feelings through a yelling match. That always seemed to ease some of the anger. “Stubborn idiot, I told you it was trapped. But no, you couldn’t have just listened to me.”
Killer gives a long sigh, quiet for a long time. Part of you were surprised he didn’t counter with an equally scathing retort. Your bickering had become second nature with how much the two of you verbally sparred.
“Can we just…not fight? For once?” When he does speak, his voice is quiet and exhaustion permeates through his whole being. “We just…that’s all we seem to do, is fight.”
You stare back, unsure of what to say. So used to the bared teeth, you don’t know what to do in the face of his sudden reluctance to fight back.
He continues when you don’t respond, shifting in place so he sat with his back facing you. “Kid knows where we went, but we’ll have to hope he puts two and two together to realize the cave collapsed and we’re underneath it. So if this is it, I don’t wanna spend my last few hours arguing with someone who hates my guts.”
The truth weighs heavy, just as the slimness of your chance of making it out of here cuts at your fearlessness. The Grand Line was a dangerous place. More notable pirates than you had died in better conditions. If anything, you should have shoved him away from that trapped chest instead of sitting back and letting him see what happened if he messed with the damn thing in the first place.
This was as much your fault as his.
Most of the anger that had been clouding your head dies down to a simmer, before dissipating entirely. Replacing it was an exhaustion to match Killer’s, and the aching of your body began to settle in place alongside it. Only the sound of his breathing can be heard, slow and shaky.
You make a decision then.
You adjust your legs underneath you and turn, sitting with your back facing him and close your eyes. Over time, your backs eventually rest against one another, but neither of you comment on that fact. If you were being honest, having someone here with you was infinitely better than being stuck in this collapsed cave on your own, where the chances of your disappearance wouldn’t be nearly as alarming. And not even just for that…but you at least were all alone down here in the dark.
“I don’t hate you.” You eventually mumble, realizing as you spoke the words that you meant them. He may piss you off in more ways than you can count, constantly try to show you up and just generally get in your way, but he was still a crew mate, and your Captain’s best friend. He had your back when things got dangerous, and despite an antagonistic attitude towards you in return, he’d never done anything to completely break your trust in him.
You don’t expect a response, and don’t receive one for a very long time as you wait for rescue to come. Better to conserve the little oxygen remaining in this stupid cave and keep quiet, you think to yourself, until Killer’s quiet words break the silence, and whatever hard feelings the two of you had held up to this point.
“I don’t hate you either.”
The cell door locks with a resilient clang. The Marine who’d thrown you both in here looks particularly triumphant and pleased with himself as he walks away down the hallway, casually swinging the key by his finger. You send a glare his way, hoping he trips and falls and chokes on the damn thing.
“Kid’s gonna be pissed at us. And it wasn’t even our fault this time.” You mention, forehead pressed to the iron cell bars morosely, ignoring Killer’s bored pacing. With the space so small, he couldn’t go more than three steps in either direction.
“Nothing to be done about it now.” He grumps, head turning as he paced to stare up at the ceiling. “There’s gotta be a way out of here.”
“Right.” With a glance at the sturdy and well-maintained set of bars currently holding you in the cell, you give a scoff. “You gonna stretch these things apart with your bare hands or something?”
Silence meets you, until you lift your head from the metal and glance at Killer behind you, who was testing the durability of the bars you’d mentioned. Shaking your head you can’t help a mirthful grin.
“Face it. We’re stuck in here until someone breaks us out.”
A dull thud denotes Killer’s frustrated kick at the metal, followed by a mumbled swear as his foot radiated pain where it had met the bars. The marine further down the corridor yells for him to knock it off.
He finally takes a seat in front of you, back to the bars as he accepted your fate for now. Lowering your head back to the bars, you watch your companion with a patient and appreciative stare. His mask is tilted to face outwards at the hallway leading to your freedom, until it suddenly shifts to point directly at your instead. Perhaps he’d noticed your staring.
“What?”
“Thanks. For earlier.” Noticing the way his mask tilts to the side in confusion, you explain. “That marine who was getting handsy?”
“Oh.” He turns away with a shrug, head shaking dismissively. As if he hadn’t one-punch KO’d the guy who’d been sneaking feels at your ass on your way to the jail cell. “It was nothing. You could have handled it. I just…got to him first.”
“I know I could’ve.” You agree, smiling a little. “It’s still appreciated.”
He hums in reply. Crossing your arms over your chest and settling in to get as comfy as possible in such a small cell, you stretch out your legs and cross them at the ankles, right beside where he is seated. Seeing your posture, Killer mimics it, letting his legs straighten beside your hip. There isn’t even a bench in the cell to sit on, so the both of you have to make do with what you can.
The distant bustle of the marines, whatever they were doing, kept your attention until the unexpected sound of chuckling beside you made you turn to look at Killer. His shoulders shook minutely, and you gave him a confused look.
“It’s always like this, isn’t it?” He gestured to the cell around you with one hand, before letting it drop back down in his lap. “Just you and me and some uncomfortable little space we’re forced into.”
“Just our luck.” You mutter as if bitter about it, but the tone in your voice is obvious that you find it a little funny too. And the uptick of the corner of your mouth makes that even more evident. “I guess I could be stuck in places like these with worse people. You’re not too terrible.”
“I’d take you over Kid any day to be stuck somewhere with. So, I guess you aren’t either.” He muses, and you can’t help the snort of laughter that leaves your mouth. The visual of Kid being caged somewhere with you was too nightmarish to think about. You’d go insane in an hour.
Another silence overtook the space between you, but this wasn’t uncomfortable at all. You’d grown so used to having Killer nearby in some capacity. Even when you didn’t find yourselves in situations like this one, you’d noticed he was around you a lot more frequently nowadays. Even Kid had remarked on the lack of hostility that had so distinctly accompanied so much of your relationship.
You felt a sort of ease being near the man, now that you didn’t feel like bashing his helmet into the nearest hard surface at any given time. Most of his quirks, you’d come to find, were amusing and to a degree…endearing.
Hell, you’d even call him a friend. And you had so precious few of those nowadays.
You settle in for the long-haul, knowing Kid and the rest of the crew would tear the place apart to come and rescue the two of you. All you had to do was wait.
You’re not sure what wakes you from unconsciousness, perhaps the gentle rocking of the waves or the slow drop in temperature as the sun finally dipped below the horizon and set the sky ablaze a warm orange. Whatever the reason, your eyes squeeze tighter before cracking open to peer at the side of the little rowboat you and Killer had stashed away on in your effort of escaping the disastrous events of Sabaody.
As the memories come flooding back from the day before, you rise in a rush and look out over the edge of the boat at the waters beyond. Not a single thing in sight, you realize with trepidation. Your heart beats hard in your chest with a thud, and your aching back protests as you stretch into a sitting position.
You turn to wake Killer, but are surprised to find him already awake and sitting up, watching you with a patient expression. It’s still jarring to see the blonde man without his helmet in place—a habit he’d only recently started around you—but you don’t squander the opportunity to see him in the flesh.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” You asked with alarm coloring your tone, but he holds up a hand.
“Relax, Y/N.” You can see the little log pose bracelet secured firmly in place on Killer’s wrist, and you breathe a little sigh of relief. “We aren’t lost at sea, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“How far from Sabaody are we?”
“No more than half a day’s rowing east.” He points in the direction the log pose is fixed to, before lowering his hand back to his lap. “It’s just a matter of waiting out the Admiral they called to the island. I doubt he’ll leave immediately after all of that. We’ll meet with the others at the rendezvous point in Grove 68.”
You sigh, shaking your head and holding it as an impending headache began to form. “I hope Kid and the others made it.”
“I saw Kid reach the ship. He would have gotten the rest to safety too.” The confidence and assuredness made it just a bit easier to breathe. Killer never had any doubts in your Captain. It was one of the things you liked about him so much.
Despite that comfort, you can’t help but wrap your arms around yourself protectively, mind straying to just how close you’d been to annihilation. A stray spark of light from Kizaru had nearly taken your head clean off. In the blink of an eye, your life would have ended, and it would have all been so fast and needless, you think. The heat from the bolt had nearly seared your eyebrows off.
“Hey, hey, come here.” Killer’s voice cuts through the rising panic, noticing your sudden change in demeanor, but you still feel like you’re drowning in emotion. The boat shifts, and his arms are quick to wrap around you a moment later. You settle into his embrace and shiver, letting the overwhelming grief of such a close call wash over you in full force. You’d never seen your impending death so closely before.
“You’re ok. Let it out.” His chest rumbled beneath you with his quiet words, unbothered that your silent tears were soaking his shirt. Fingers dug tightly into the fabric, holding him even closer to you, if at all possible. Shaking off the excess fear and anxiety, you stutter in breaths as Killer soothes you with his voice.
You cling to Killer like a lifeline, like the sturdy rock in a turbulent stream, using his steadfastness to anchor your unstable emotions. The way his heart beats on, strong and solid beneath your ear, the gentle rise and fall of his chest with every breath, and the feather-soft touch of his thumb trailing your arm up and then down again.
His scent fills your nose, calms your senses, eases your nerves as much as they could in the moment. Slowly, over time, as your breaths deepened and the panic that had gripped you faded, you lay there against his chest with closed eyes and so much appreciation for him in your heart.
How could you have ever hated a man like this, who held you without complaint so tenderly? What an idiot you’d been.
“Can we…stay like this for awhile?” You ask in a rough voice, swallowing back the warmth in your heart and the lump in your throat as you came to realize what it meant. “Please?”
“We’ll need to start rowing back towards the island if we’re going to meet up with the others…” He says, pulling away just enough to look into your face. And at first, you think he’ll gently ease you away from his chest, but something in your expression softens his, and he gives a gentle smile as he pulled you back into his arms.
“…but that can wait until morning.”
It was sweltering underneath the wagon’s canvas cart. The fabric of your clothes clung to every inch of skin on you, making every subtle shift of your position all the worse. And to top it all off? This operation required silence, so you couldn’t voice your displeasure aloud. Killer, who’d been tasked to accompany you in setting up this ambush position, was no doubt quite thankful of that.
You glance over at him just a foot away from you, wondering if he was suffering just as much if not more in that mask of his. Even his body language didn’t give much away. Thus far, the man didn’t fidget or shift around much at all. Remarkably still and calm, given the circumstances. You’d never been able to quite sit still just before a big fight. And this one would prove to be a rather big one, if the meeting of pirates to come was any indication.
It’s hard to resist another glance at your companion, and so yet again your eyes trail his muscled arms and broad frame, weapons rested easily on his knees to await the signal. His chest rose and fell in steady measure, the shirt taut over his muscled chest and offering a delectable sight.
It had gotten increasingly difficult not to let your gaze wander to the first mate over the past few weeks. Or to try not thinking about how he’d held you until you’d eventually fallen back asleep in his arms. The beat of his heart had lulled you back into that cocoon of safety and warmth.
And something in him seemed to change as well. He went without his helmet more and more around you. Your eyes met and held for several seconds before a timid smile would break the spell over you and cause one or both of you to look away. Fleeting little things, those moments. But enough that you knew something was there, surely.
He hadn’t said anything yet. Neither had you. The right moment hadn’t come, you thought. But perhaps soon.
Killer’s helmet tilted towards you curiously—realization hits that you were still staring at him—and you shot him a smile. Miming how hot you were with your tongue out and one hand fanning your face, he nods in agreement. His finger reaches up and taps the mask covering his face, head shaking ruefully.
You point towards his head, mouthing for him to take the damn thing off if he was feeling it too. He hesitates, no doubt wondering if to do so would leave him unprepared for the fight yet to come, but discomfort seems to win out in the end. Carefully, so as not to knock into anything in the cart or the canvas top covering it, he reaches up and lifts the blue and white cover from his face, revealing his handsome-yet-sweaty face. Another swift sake of his head sends sweat drops dripping from his face, before he gives you an appreciative look.
Your smile widens, glad to see him not so uncomfortable in this damn cart. Then, you reach for the bandana secured to your arm and untie it. Shaking it out, you lift it to his face and gently wipe away the excess sweat from his forehead and cheeks, watching the way he closes his eyes and allows you to touch him as you see fit.
It would be so easy, you think, to just lean down and kiss him like this. In the quiet, alone with no pesky crew mates around to interrupt you. You wonder if his lips are as soft as they look. If his kiss would be as gentle as you’ve started imagining it would be. In all your musings, you’ve stopped wiping at his sweat, and his eyes open to look at up to you tenderly.
The silence is thick, but the tension between you is thicker. Killer’s eyes drift down once to your lips, before meeting your gaze again. You feel his hand close softly around your wrist. The heat of the cart, coupled with the feelings getting caught in your throat makes you dry swallow. Your voice is scratchy and barely more than a whisper as you speak.
“Killer, I-“
The sound of a nearby gunshot startles you both in place. Another beat, before you realize the significance. That was the signal to break cover and support the crew. You scramble apart from Killer and grab your weapon as he swiftly jams the helmet back on his head. Sharing a nod, the two of you jump out from the canvas and attack anyone who dares step close enough.
The wind was brisk as you sailed away from the shores of Wano. Leaning against the Victoria Punk’s front observation deck, you watched as the island became smaller and smaller in the distance. While the beauty of the country couldn’t be denied, you never wanted to see the damn place ever again. Not after all of the heartache and grief you’d gone through while within its borders.
You’d nearly lost everyone. Your Captain, your crew, and…with a glance at Killer who stood beside you, face now split in an unending grin, you can’t help but wonder what was on his mind. He’d given up so much, lost some part of himself that no one knew if he could reclaim. A hollowness in your heart wouldn’t go away, no matter how hard you tried willing it to.
You should feel at peace, far away from Kaido and his beastly crew. For the first time in weeks, there was room to breathe, time to rest, and safe enough to let your guard down for just a moment. But there was no peace with the Kid Pirates. And there likely wouldn’t be for some time after.
“I can feel you staring.” Killer mentions suddenly, eyes still riveted on the place that had stolen his freedom of expression and his ability to swim all in one. You blink, the silence up to that point shattered.
“Sorry.” You mumble, shifting in place at the railing and giving a sigh. Perhaps you’d inadvertently made him feel uncomfortable. His laugh was already a sore spot for him, and now his altered appearance probably even more so. Your throat clears, desperately trying to fix the situation. “I just…was wondering how you were holding up.”
“As well as can be expected.” Is his colorless reply, face never breaking the supposedly happy expression. But from the side profile, you can plainly see the pain in his eyes. “I’m sure it won’t be easy getting used to me this way.”
You’re not sure what to say to that, and he seems to take your silence as something else, closing his eyes for a long while before turning to face you.
“Y/N.” Your name on his lips sounds so mournful all of a sudden, and you look up into his glistening eyes, struck by the juxtaposition of his smile in comparison. “I know that we almost…had something…before.”
Your mouth opens to reply but he troops onward, as if he’d never get the words out if he didn’t do it now. His hands take your own, thumbs brushing over the back of your palms. You squeeze his back in response.
“I’m sorry, for the person I’ve become. I’m sorry if I’ve changed too much for you to still feel…whatever you may have started feeling before Wano. But given the choice again, I wouldn’t change what I did. I would still eat that damn fruit if it meant all of you could be safe, even knowing what I’d be after.”
“Killer…” You mumble, heart-stricken. A tear slides down his smiling cheek, and almost instinctually you reach up to brush it away.
“You’re someone I cherish, and to know you’re safe, and happy, is all I want.” He concluded, eyes closing again. “I…still want to be your friend, if you’ll have me. But if you can’t, then I-“
“Look at me.” Is your firm command, and he stops mid-sentence, staring at you with such a sad gaze and brilliant smile. Hands reach up to hold his face, and you step closer to him, hoping he could see through to the depth of your feelings beneath. “I would give anything to return what was stolen from you; I’d trade places, cut off a limb…whatever it might take.”
You can already see the protest bubbling up from his lips, so you slowly shake your head and don’t give him the chance to interrupt.
“But even if there’s no way to do that, to give that part of you back,” you continued, ignoring the way your chest welled up as you laid you feelings bare after these months of holding them in, “you will always be enough, just as you are.”
The tears run anew in his eyes, and his chest heaves once with a stuttered breath as he grasps the weight of your declaration. He surges forward and wraps his arms around you in a crushing hug, squeezing you to his chest with a force that has you struggling to breathe. But you let him hold you so tightly without complaint, hoping that he would never doubt how much he meant to you again.
You think you hear him sob once into the crook of your neck, but you only hold him tighter, arms wrapped around his neck protectively.
“I think I love you.” Is his muttered, muffled confession.
A part of you always wondered, always assumed, that your attraction was mutual. The two of you were so closely bonded, love seemed like such a natural result. And yet you still feel that little skip of your heart as you pull him away just enough to looking into those beautiful eyes of his, and see the same adoration you felt for him reflected back.
And for once, his wide smile finally matches the emotions in his gaze.
His hands take hold of your head, gently, tenderly, and tilt your face as he leans in close. “I love you.” He says again, barely more than a whisper, eyes flicking back and forth across your face, searching for the answer to a question so obvious.
Your reply is an assured and determined meeting of your mouth to his. A kiss, so simple but with so much emotion and passion behind it that you felt something shift entirely. Even as his mouth molds to your, kissing you like he was savoring the moment, you could feel the upturn of the corners of his lips.
The next day may bring ruin and tragedy yet again, the journey ahead was fraught with mystery and danger, and yet you feared nothing, because after all this time, you had this man to have you and hold you and kiss you like he couldn’t envision anything sweeter. There in his arms at the front of the ship’s lower deck, everything felt right.
And when you finally did have to pull away to fill your lungs with breath, you matched his smile with a bright one of your own.
“I love you too.”
ns 15.158.61.12da2
