Awakaned in the middle of the night, Ishmael is faced with a not-so difficult choice: to either spend a sleepless night alone in her room, reminiscing about the horrors of her past.. or find solace in the presence of a certain sinner.
"Ah!"
A sudden yelp could have been heard inside of Ishmael's room as she jerked up from her bed, now in a sitting position - gripping her white duvet with an unimaginable force. The knuckles of her calloused hands turned white, small cracks and subtle scabs visible. Her eyes were shot open, darting around the room; her mouth - slightly parted as she exhaled and inhaled rapidly.
Her broad shoulders were hunched, as both her mind and heart raced. There was nothing unusual around her: her room kept in the state as it was before she went to sleep. Her duvet - a simple, white cotton sheet; her furniture consisting only of a bed, simple wardrobe, night stand, small desk and a cheap looking chair. Near her bed - right beside it, above the night stand on which her mace and shield were leaned over was a simple, rectangular window of a medium size. It had a set of cheap looking sheer white curtains, through which the pale light of the Moon hanging high in the night sky came in.
She let out a long, shaky breath, bringing the palm of her right hand onto her face and rubbing it - letting her mind wander for a second. Waves, screams, pallid whiteness: a mush her imagination produced, as if to deliberately wake her up from the serene slumber. Her worn-out gray t-shirt was slightly damp, her bangs plastered to her forehead.
"Shit."
A nearly silent whisper left her lips as she frowned, knowing that she wouldn't be able to fall asleep anytime soon. Swiftly putting aside the duvet, as she was about to stand up and cope with the bottling up feelings of unease and anxiety in her gut - a faint knock was audible.
Her eyes darted to the metal door as she tensed up, feeling her heart stop for a second. Maybe I'm still dreaming, she wondered, instinctively holding onto the bed frame - as if to stop herself from any sudden movements.
Some shuffling could be heard outside the room, followed by a set of three knocks now - a little more confidence felt in them. Ishmael's brows furrowed, as she firmly stood up: straightening her posture, despite the delicate shiver that ran down her spine due to the quick contact of her feet with the cold surface. Stepping to the door, with a stern look on her face she opened them - despite the tension in her body and unnerved mind.
Right in front of her stood a person: one of her coworkers. Just like Ishmael herself, [you] also seemed slightly unnerved - still in your pajamas. All the built up tension evaporated from Ishmael's system, even an unexpected held-in exhale escaped , but she still stood her ground firm. Eyeing up the unforeseen visitor her face softened a little, now portraying something between contemn and flatness, rather than the anxiety she so hardly tried to overpower.
"Can I help you?" She asked, her voice a little hoarse. The sinner in front of her visibly relaxed at the sound.
"Did I wake you up? I'm sorry. I felt I had to check on you." [You] said quickly, your voice - too - sounding as if [you] woke up not too long ago yourself. "I.. um. Had a dream something happened to you. Couldn't really help myself not to come, even at this hour." Your gaze faltered, an embarrassed look born on your face.
Ishmael's eyes slightly widened with surprise at this sudden admission. She was expecting anything but a reason as simple and endearing as this one. Her shoulders slumped slightly as she, a little dumbfounded, looked down onto her posture.
"Well, I'm alright. In one piece, as you can see." She whispered, her voice cracking a little as she finished the sentence. A crumpled, gray t-shirt that has already dried paired with dark green checkered boxers and an unruly bed hairstyle. Not her proudest look, but at this point she couldn't care less about being presentable.
"Yeah. Can I come in though? Just to make sure?" [You] inquired, looking behind Ishmael's shoulder - deeper into her dark room.
A little taken aback Ishmael moved out of the way, making the necessary space to enter. Some quiet stomps could be heard - and the click of metal doors closing behind her. Her gaze followed her nightly visitor as [You] halted in the middle of the room - your eyes fixated on the window: or rather, whatever was behind it. Your face was illuminated by the pale moonlight, basking the features in a silver-ish veil. Ishmael could feel her heart skip-a-beat, but quickly dismissed it; thinking about the nightmare that haunted her not too long ago - affection seemed too much of an uncertainty to let herself even consider it. Not that.. it was even there, she thought to herself - trying to rebuild the wall that was crumbling in your presence.
"The window." [You] pointed, a small huff escaping your lips. "Looks like there was quite the storm outside. wasn't there?" You turned to face her, a kind yet playful smile twisting your lips. "That makes the two of us a little too disturbed to fall back asleep."
Ishmael was genuinely surprised by the keen observation, this whole time trying to play-off her anxiety and diminish it to the point of nonexistence. She turned her head, exhaling deeply through her nose as she crossed her tanned arms on her chest; the facade cracking slightly.
"I'm not even going to correct you." She swiftly opened one of her eyes, taking a quick glance at your face.
"Mm. I have an idea." You said, a mischievous spark in your eyes. "You know, since the dawn of time people have slept together to soothe their nerves. Maybe we should try this too?"
Ishmael's breath hitched, her eyebrows furrowing as much to make a mark between them. She could feel her heartbeat quickening and her face heating up slightly - as much to her displeasure.
"You're not slick with this. At all." She grumbled, trying to stop her voice from even the smallest crack. "You're lucky it's.. too late for me to argue." She mumbled, shaking her head - her trademark sigh escaping her lips as a way to express her.. surrender. A small victorious pink flush appeared on your face in response.
After some shuffling and ruffling, Ishmael was comfortably posed with her back facing the wall behind her - and her face on the level of your chest. She felt absolutely bewildered by the development of this whole ordeal, her lips pursed in a tight line as she tried her best to keep her composure: and keep the 'appropriate' distance (she imposed upon the both of you). Her mind raced, trying to remember the last time she was so intimately close to someone - the remnants of the nightmare disappearing somewhere far away, washed away with the dark waves that haunted her every breath.
[You] yawned quietly, draping the duvet over her shoulder and delicately embracing Ishmael. Laying on your side, right in front of her - scooting a little closer, so both of you can enjoy being under the duvet. Her body was like a radiator: still, maybe even a little tense, but the amount of heat she radiated was both comforting and concerning. [You] reached out your left arm, your right being under your head for support, and embraced her delicately. Your hand held her head steadily, your thumb cautiously making circling motions as to soothe her.. or yourself. Her shallow breaths blew small portions of warm air in the direction where your heart was beating calmly.
"Goodnight, Ish." Your whisper made her racing thoughts halt in place, her hazel eyes looking up your face amidst the dark of the room. Your eyes where closed, a gentle smile plastered on your lips. She laid there, in your grasp - feeling your breathing steadily slow down as she waited for [you] to fall asleep peacefully.
She observed [you]: how your features relaxed, how your lips slightly parted to let out a dreamy sigh; hoping your night will continue without any unnecessary disturbances. Maybe it was something she picked up upon entering the deck of Pequod - night watches were a daily occurrence there; or, just maybe, it was something she felt she had to do to ensure you won't disappear into the white foam with a low tide. Even though she knew no path was intended to cross forever, the knot she felt tightening between you two was not something she was willing to let go of - no matter how much she tried to dismiss those feelings growing inside of her.
Hesitantly, she closed the distance between your bodies - hugging her face to your chest and enveloping your frame with her strong arms. She shut her eyes tight, listening to your heartbeat lulling her like the sound of tranquil waves, her breathing starting to follow the rhythm of your own. Her embrace was solid, leaving no room to escape.
For the last time, the sight of her friends being devoured by the Pallid Whale flashed before her eyes - followed by the images of them coated in the white fleshy membrane, with their faces just barely resembling their own. She gripped you tighter, her breathing becoming ragged as a desperate whisper left her quivering lips;
