I avoided Ciaran more fervently over the next coming days. That moment had been… Nice. Special, even. But still, undeserved. Every time I felt my cheeks flush with memory, they quickly paled in shame not too soon after.
The burn healed quickly, but I was awash with images of Ichiro and his calculated abuses. I had been having nightmares daily, nightmares I hadn’t had for a long time. I knew it wasn’t him. He wasn’t near. I would’ve felt it when I woke. But he still had me in his ugly, jagged grasp. Years late and I still had this fucking immutable voice in my head, acting in his stead, telling me all the awful things I am, the awful things I’ve done, all the things I don’t deserve and how he’s all I can have. He’s what I should settle for. The only thing that I could possibly dare to want given the life I’ve lead.
I’d woken from a fitful night’s sleep and stalked out to the deck, the morning so early the sun hadn’t dared to yet kiss the horizon. I didn’t even bother to change from the night gown I’d worn to bed. The sun may still be sleeping, but I couldn’t anymore, my bed felt so strangely unsafe. So, instead, I leaned against the railing and stared out at the infinite span of the blackness before me, above me and below me. I tried to figure out where my broken body fit in among the vast expanse of the world in those short hours to myself, nothing but my thoughts to accompany me. I felt a strange tranquil measure of peace in those moments, allowing my thoughts to slip freely from me and out to sea. It was the first time I’d allowed myself to just… forget. Without consequence.
I let my eyes slip shut, leaning into the gentle rock of the ocean, replaying the moment that spurred my avoidance and tried to see it with new born sight.
He wasn’t Ichiro. Ichiro never apologized. Not once without some sort of caveat, at least. Some cruel condition to his kindness, but here Ciaran was, a beacon of warmth in this cold, damp world. Freely giving apologies and want-less offers of help. I wanted to believe that he had some cruel agenda but I knew better. I could breathe in his honesty from the air around him, as crisp and sweet like the long-lost scent of roses. I could hear his heartbeat, steady, determined, no quickening in treachery.
I remembered one simple increase in his heart’s pace, but it wasn’t fear. He lingered outside my door after he’d left. I’d heard it. I’d felt it. He was respectful and kind, something rare in a man, let alone a pirate. I could see why Sofh had so ardently fallen in love…
And there it was. The trigger back into reality as the sun crested the horizon, shining an orange cast to my closed eyelids. I opened my eyes and stared down at the long orange ripples left in the water by the sun, remembering my place. I was an outsider to society, on the fringe. I’d probably always be on the fringe, even if I found my cure, I was just foolish enough to drag the arguable innocents down with me. His kindness aside, I couldn’t do this to another. I took in a breath, the sea filling my lungs slowly like the steady waves crashing against the ship.
I felt so strangely heavy in the realization, both new and old, that I’d have to find some way to cut Ciaran loose. To get rid of him before I did something I regretted. Before he did something he regretted. I felt an all too familiar ache deep within my chest, buried among bad memories, but this ache was somehow fresher, and even more so, outshining all the old pains combined.
Lord help me. When did I become so attached?
