Page 16 of Sink With Me

The night becomes cooler than last, a bit more of a chill in the air. It smells different too—it’s not just the sea salt anymore, it’s an odd fresh scent like rain that threatens to fall from the dark clouds blocking the moon. My steps are light, but not as hesitant as before, leading me to the edge where the chipped rail rests against my waist. Flicking my nail against the paint, I watch the fleck drop to the rolling waves below.

My heart rate picks up. The small chip gets swallowed, dragged into the churning depths. Doomed to disintegrate. With another deep inhale, I chip another piece. The water can’t touch me unless I let it.

I follow the motions Daymen showed me, raising my arms until my fingers interlace behind my neck, steady on my feet as the ocean stared back. I won’t let myself fall.

“Would you look at that?”

I drop my arms, startled. He should start clearing his throat or coughing or scuffing his boot or just… something. It’d be better than a damn heart attack every time. When I face him, I don’t even bother to put my hands behind my back. I’ve fought a majority of this war on my own, and I’ve faced my fears. I’d even say I’ve overcome a few. A grin spreads as he holds up a plate of the chef’s cooking. I have no reason to panic or tense up, not when I’m safe.

“A storm’s gonna roll in. Figured you’d maybe wanna eat with me and watch a movie on my portable DVD player?” I roll my eyes as he curls his mouth enough to make that damn dimple show with a very comical wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Daymen–”

“Just so you know, I’m marking it as a date, but don’t worry, I won’t try to seduce you or nothin’.” He holds his unoccupied hand up in the air as a surrender when I open my mouth to retort. “I’m not here to tell you that you need a distraction, but I will say, I think you need some time to relax.”

I cross my arms over my chest, but if I could melt into a puddle, then that’s what would be happening to me right now. I spend too much time pushing down unwelcome feelings. ‘The perfect soldier keeps them buried deep down’ as Dutton would say while training. If you're a walking machine then the most dangerous thing can't hurt you; other people.

Careful, precise steps, which come to a stop when the tip of my boots touch his, turning his grin into a full-blown smile.

“I can’t promise the same for when all this,” he waves his hand around the ship, “is said and done, though. Imma find a way to make you let me in, eventually.”

That sounds like a better goal than a bath and wine. My fingers brush against his, trying to pull the slop-covered plate into my grasp. He lifts it up into the air and out of my reach.

“Is that a yes, Captain?”

I roll my eyes and the way his hand finds the small of my back as he guides me feels all too natural.

“Where the hell did you get a portable DVD player?”

He huffs a laugh.

“You really think I’m dumb enough to tell my boss I smuggled it in?”

I steal a glance as he pushes the metal barrier open catching the subtle smirk.

“Very funny.” My tone is dry but I can’t help but smile through the words. My palms slick with sweat the deeper into the enclosed death trap we go. My quarters are more towards the front of the boat, allowing me to tactfully avoid surpassing my comfort zone, whereas this seems further, making us dip into a side passage down a flight of stairs. My heart begins to pound, a hand wrapping itself lightly around my throat.

“What’re we watching?” I attempt conversation hoping for a distraction from the way the scent goes from his deodorant to wet, salty metal. I can hear dripping somewhere. It’s just condensation. My thoughts rationalize the sound; the water this far out is cold, the inside of the ship is warm, it’s just condensation. His shoulder nudges mine, trying to lighten my mood.

“How about… Cast Away?”

I narrow my gaze in his direction with my mouth agape. The laugh that vibrates off the groaning walls sends a chill down my spine.

“You're not good at this relaxing thing, darlin’. You’re kinda defeating my purpose.”

I scoff, pushing my tongue into my cheek. He’s not wrong. It’s nearly impossible to relax when I know that less than a few sheets of steel separate me from certain death. He braces his hand against a door, revealing a lackluster room somewhat the size of a small cubicle. I shift on my feet. It’s a complete contrast to what I’ve been staying in, and it makes my heart sit in my mouth.

“Oh, come on now. Don’t look at my humble abode like that.” Daymen teases, still holding the door for me. I gingerly step in and the soft click behind me has my teeth grinding up my lower lip. His presence behind me is still, before his hands land upon my shoulders and soothingly rub out the tension in them.

“Remember my quarters back at base? How small they were.” His voice is hushed, calming. I nod. His broad hands pat me twice, firmly. “Go take a seat then, Captain.”

Kicking off my boots I perch on the edge of the metal bed, examining what I have to eat. The particularly disgusting experience of throwing up almost every item on the menu has put me off most meals. Meanwhile Daymen huffs out a laugh rummaging through his luggage and pulls out a small DVD player and zip case of movies.

“If you haven’t declared it, I’m supposed to report you for that.” I say, raising a forkful of mashed potatoes to my lips—I feel the gagging begin already. The way he moves is domestic, shifting through cases and propping up the little screen like we’ve done this a thousand times. As if we’d do it a thousand more.

He flicks off the light on his way over to the bed, which dips almost to the metal bench below from his sudden drop of weight on the mattress. I have to counterbalance my tray of food as it threatens to leap into the air. He sighs, his hands nestling behind his head.

“You were much more fun when you weren’t my boss.”

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