Golden
Active member
Sleep had not come for her that night. After hours of unease, eyes trained on her closed door, ears tuned into every creak and groan that the ship made, Alys finally made an attempt to rest. She'd crawled into her fucking hammock, silently cursing Lucien and Emryk for accelerating their departure from Leimor, for not allowing her the opportunity to spend her hard-earned money and purchase a bed (and pillows) as big as the room. Swaying gently, she gripped her pistol, and every so often, opened her eyes to look back at the door. It was hard not to when just across the hall, between two very penetrable walls, was a vampire who'd been this close to losing control. Who was being cared for by another vampire who, quite simply, didn't give a fuck. So she swayed and looked and listened, ready to spring up from her hammock at the slightest approach. Towards her room, and towards the room next door.
The next morning, after a restless night, she'd asked him to meet her in the office. They didn't need to meet among the animals anymore, not when she was first mate. Making herself comfortable, Alys leaned back in her chair, legs crossed and arms loosely draped over each arm rest. Before her, on the table, sat two boxes. One larger, encased in polished dark wood, the other smaller.
The next morning, after a restless night, she'd asked him to meet her in the office. They didn't need to meet among the animals anymore, not when she was first mate. Making herself comfortable, Alys leaned back in her chair, legs crossed and arms loosely draped over each arm rest. Before her, on the table, sat two boxes. One larger, encased in polished dark wood, the other smaller.