“Could be a sailor? Don’t insult me. It’s in my blood.” Not directly perhaps but Alto Mare was a city built on the ocean, its veins canals that led to the heart of the sea, water the life source of the inhabitants that walked along every artisan bridge or drifted along in their rumbling, old motorboats. “I’m a hard worker. I bet I could make First Mate in one,” Angelo’s lips curl lazily at the challenge, voice void of any kind of seriousness. If he sought for a life venturing the oceans, he was sure that it would make for a fitting picture – the man from an island called ‘High Sea’ becoming a sailor. But…

His fingers sluggishly drift down her arm, subconsciously seeking the warmth of her skin with no final destination in mind until Skyler catches his hand in hers, naturally intertwining them. Then she’s brushing her calloused thumb against his hand, ticklish and soothing all at once in its gentle, repetitive motion. Angelo feels no desire to readjust. Content to drowsily take in softening silver gazes and the pleasant quality to her scratchy, tired voice that reaches out to him through their close, intimate space.

It’s the subject of that sleepy tone however, that stirs him.

Brow creasing, Angelo falls silent as Skyler begins to share in contemplations of a more deep and serious nature. He’s unsure whether that right now, being half-asleep and still a little intoxicated from desire, was the perfect or worst time to be discussing the unknown of the future. What he did know, was that it left a bitter taste on his tongue, something about her words unsettling him in new and familiar ways.

Waiting until Skyler finishes talking, absorbing the musings of her potential fate, Angelo releases a thoughtful hum. “Who knows,” his voice is quiet and just a little distant as he mirrors her final statement, like he’s in the middle of thought. He’s thankful when she decides to press herself into his neck, it means that she wouldn’t catch the troubled quality to his ocean eyes, restless from the thought of a dead sailor and her limitless possibilities that would be too much of a waste to leave behind so young. “But thirty is a long way away yet. You’ve got time to figure all of that out.”

There’s a sensation of her nose nuzzling against his neck and Angelo tethers himself to it, relishing in the ticklishness of her breath as it grounds him to the present. Thinking of his own future was painful enough. He can’t help raising their joined hands to his lips, pressing them briefly against lightly bruised knuckles to share in that warmth.

“Besides... there’s plenty of sea out there. Think it’ll take more than ten… No, fifteen years to sail them all. You can't leave them unexplored, can you?” Skyler had said that she wanted to travel once, hadn’t she? He thinks he remembers her telling him that, his mind just a little bit cloudy from exhaustion but he clings to the picture of the sailor exploring oceanic territory, anyway. Even if he couldn't be around to see it, that image suits her too damn well.  

“Hoenn may be going to shit but that’s the beauty of being a sailor, I guess. You can go where you want...” There’s an edge of wistfulness leaking out of soft, drowsy lips. Gaps in his armour momentarily revealed as he presses his cheek into golden hair, eyes half-opened and about as blurry as his consciousness. Angelo is uncertain whether the edge of sadness is for his own bleak future or for the brief one she had assigned herself. He decides he doesn't like either...

“You can do whatever you want...”

skyler dross

His sadness didn’t linger. It never did when he was with her; unsettled thoughts pulled back into the depths of the subconscious like the tide claiming seashells. They’ll be washed up again another time, he knows but for now, as her voice drifts over him, Angelo’s lips sleepily curl against bruised knuckles held close.

Futures could wait; he thinks he remembers promising himself not to contemplate too much about it tonight. It was just Skyler’s words, as certain and sombre as they had been, that had knocked him off course. Estimation of thirty or not, he trusts she’d put up a hell of a fight first before she let anything be taken from her – he supposed that was where they differed a little…

“I don’t know about that. I think you’ve got your own special brand of crazy going on. Might be a little unfair to throw the rest of the sailors in with you.” There’s a faint, blissful hum that rumbles from his throat at the sensation of a gentle kiss pressed against his neck; thoughts drifting as ocean blue eyes close to savour the sensation. She’s certainly unlike any sailor he’d ever met before. It’s not a criticism in the slightest.

Angelo briefly wonders what that says about him, willingly swept up in the wild pull of her current when he really should be looking to paddle back to shore. Instead he reaches after moonglow eyes, chasing to grasp hold of all of their mysterious and maddening flashes as they glitter temptingly on the surface of blue, before it can slip through his fingertips. Maybe he was a little crazy, too.

Leisurely, he presses his lips to her knuckles in barely-there kisses, whispered chuckles breathed over her bruised skin as Skyler sleepily waxes poetic about oceanic dreams. “You better, I want to see that…” And he really does. Every part of him yearns to explore everything and see what this world has to offer, so much that it grates at his chest raw. But if he can’t, then he hopes that she does. “Well, pirate queen, I hope you’ve started working on that armada of yours… You’ve got a lot of regional waters to claim under the Dross flag.”

There’s a pause then, comfortably nestled in her hair and drowsily blinking, as Angelo wonders if he had heard her right. Taking a moment longer than usual to absorb a pirate queen’s declaration. “You’ll have to catch me first…” He says; already a little breathless…

Falling quiet, having found the perfect position to tempt him closer towards the warm blur of sleep, Angelo feels his eyes heavily start to slip shut. Limbs melting into the mattress, he subtly curled around Skyler as she nestled comfortably into the crook of his neck. He thinks this would be a nice way to drift into unconsciousness more than just the once. That it would be too much of a shame to disturb them, just so he can switch off the lamp. So he doesn’t move, until she does…

“Hmm..?” Blinking blearily, he tilts his head down to fix his gaze onto Skyler’s grey eyes, fighting to focus as his drowsiness attempted to blur their beautiful glow. He has to concentrate on her words but her finger, lightly pressing pointedly into his chest, constricts something within his ribcage tight. It’s such a small gesture and yet… It feels like he’s had the breath knocked out of him. Stolen. Snatched.

He’s kind of grateful he’s too tired to chase the meaning behind it.

“Home sounds nice…” His voice is quiet, almost longing. Like he hasn’t felt like he’s had one for a long time.

Skyler leans up towards him then and he instinctively returns her kiss, languidly pressing his lips to hers with a sleepy hum; her warmth sinking into his skin until he melts against golden curls again. “And the day after that and the day after that…” He mumbles into her hair, already half gone and missing her point; his words a reassuring comfort perhaps more to himself. Thirty was a long way away and, he supposed, so was a year and however many months… There would be tomorrow. Then another tomorrow after that, to spend with her and to make the most of this temporary version of home. For a little while yet.

“Night, Sunshine…” Somehow, he still manages to turn off the lamp without disturbing them.

skyler dross