@povvertaken // jacob & malcolm
Malcolm stands, and watches workers swarm across the hull of his ship like ants, industrious and synchronised. The New Covenant has been through worse than this, but he still feels keenly each of her injuries as though his own. She has bought him his freedom, time and time again, and to see her trapped in the vast dry dock is like seeing a bird with its wings clipped.
He senses rather than sees when he is not alone, and takes his time in letting his gaze wander eventually over to Jacob. As far as he knows, the Eurydice is still seaworthy, despite any bumps and bruises she may have suffered, though he hadn’t gone so far as to confirm that.
It’s both a surprise and an inevitability to find Jacob still here.
“Come to thank me, have you?” Malcolm asks, the curl of accent looping as heavy as the humidity that clings to his skin, running rivulets of gathered sweat beading at his spine. He wonders, idly, if there is some beach or cove nearby where he could swim. It has been a long time since he felt the sea on his skin beyond the harsh lick and whip of spray and breaking waves. “No need. Call it a favour.”