[attr="class","angelow"]

An exasperated sigh exhales past a grim curl of his lip, frustration pouring into the hollow space between. “Is that what you think?” [break][break]

Although Angelo knows that he’d omitted and glossed over plenty of personal details during their time together, hearing Skyler’s assumption of his character stings sharply, none the less. [break][break]

There's no time for the hurt to fester when storm clouds brew however, not when Skyler stalks around the table towards him. Angelo doesn’t make to move from his spot, welded; a stubborn tilt of his chin and a narrowing of cold blue welcoming her into his personal space. [break][break]

“When’d I say working there would make me happy?” The short laugh that follows is a bitter one, far from Angelo's usual mirth and more akin to a scoff, as if it should be obvious. “I told you, it’s for the money.”[break][break]

The pause before the ‘why’ tumbles off loosened lips is short; pushed into the open by the fire pulsing through his veins, words unintentionally blunt. [break][break]

“I wasn’t lying to you the other day, you know. About piloting.” Angelo is sure that she’d remember. After the impromptu helicopter ride he’d taken some week or so ago, he’d returned back to the Sotally Tober with more stars snared within his eyes in months, enthusiastically sharing with her a night spent suspended between ocean and sky. [break][break]

Only uncertainty for his situation had stopped him from telling his intentions to Skyler, passing it off as a mere possibility. But he’d been hooked, the clouds were pulling him back even now, regardless of whether his bank account was far too slim to support it… [break][break]

“I want to do it. Now. But to get everything, I’m going to need money, Sky. More than I've got.” And definitely more than he would ever ask her for. [break][break]

“If I have to go through one more year of doing shit I don’t want to do, to pay for it… Then that’s fine by me.” His heart thunders, adrenaline soaring in the weight shed of the admission and from the strange anticipation of her reaction.[break][break]

And yet Angelo’s frown remains, mind and gaze stubbornly set as fingers curl into tight fists, holding onto stardust and his resolve.[break][break]

“That a good enough answer for you, captain?”

[attr="class","skylerw"]

"One year." Her tone is flat, ominous.
[break][break]
One year, spilled from his lips like it was nothing, like he'd tucked away bits of time in his pockets to be spent later. Certainty's etched into the stubborn pull of his mouth as cold blue eyes meet her own, unmovable in the face of her aggression. One year - and he'd set to the skies like she did the ocean, navigating its currents and storms like they'd been born to heed their call.
[break][break]
"One year away from - everything?" The skies, the ocean, the road - her? Though that last thought barely touches the surface of her mind, the captain can't quite hide the cold twist in her stomach or the way her voice - though still challenging - catches slightly, a storm turned unto itself.
[break][break]
For someone like Skyler, whose life is measured in days spent recklessly courting danger, a year is an eternity. It's time ripped away from reaching fingertips that yearn to take everything they can, wholly and unapologetically. To boldly step forward in spite of the odds and laugh in the face of perceived death.
[break][break]
To give up a year for the rest of a life of freedom? Skyler could understand it. If it were anyone else, she might even have stepped back, brewing quicksilver storm appeased in the wake of his words. But this isn't just anyone else - this is Angelo, her... Hers. And so she stands firm, undaunted at the crackling tension that has sent Sammy scurrying back into his cupboard.
[break][break]
"Y'know, when sailors find themselves in a storm, they never try to retreat." Angelo's warmth beckons, and despite the whetted gaze that seeks his like a knife, Skyler makes no effort to resist it, stepping into his space with familiar ease. Closed fists are ignored in favor of drawing a finger up his forearm, feeling the tension - a part of her basking in it.
[break][break]
She'd always loved to test her mettle against the maelstrom behind his eyes. The stakes are simply different this time.
[break][break]
"By the time you're there it's too late. So they have to keep sailing into the thick of it, praying to Arceus or Kyogre that they aren't bound for the depths." Her mouth curls slightly, bitterness chased away by something wild and fierce that doesn't belong in a kitchen, or inside an apartment. "But that doesn't mean they have to take the most difficult route. Heed the warnings, read the storm, don't be stupid - and you might have a chance of getting through alive."
[break][break]
There isn't only one path you can take, Angelo. Take to the skies, but don't lose yourself in the struggle.
[break][break]
"Have you considered taking a loan?"

[attr="class","angelow"]

There’s a crack detected in her voice, no matter how fine – and for the first time that evening, he can’t seem to find his own. Angelo is rendered momentarily quiet, as the razor thin snag in his beloved’s resilience catches sharp on his chest. [break][break]

It allows Skyler to slip into his personal space without retaliation, the captain stepping forward with a tale on her tongue and a testing finger grazed against his forearm. A hand extended towards an open flame; only he’s the one who feels the burn slowly drag along tanned skin. [break][break]

And yet he doesn’t withdraw from the familiarity of her presence. Listening, eyes narrowed. [break][break]

Angelo never could chase away the storm she routinely brings, wanting to get swept up in it – in her. Even as he stands weathering his own in the form of tense muscles and bristling, armoured emotions.[break][break]

“A year – give or take… Isn’t going to kill me, Sky.” He says eventually, voice now somewhat hushed in their close proximity. “Spent two years in university doing something I didn’t like. What’s one more behind a desk?”[break][break]

But he doesn’t sound convinced, a hesitancy seeping through. Unlike back then, Angelo’s eyes have since been opened. A dream has now taken root in his heart and a life he wants to keep has landed in his palms. He’d tasted freedom, that will never leave his lips. [break][break]

No matter how unnatural it felt to willingly cage himself behind mahogany and endless, mindless tasks however, it was the course of action that Angelo had grown used to. Conditioned over the years by his own making.[break][break]

And so Skyler’s next suggestion brings about a wrinkled expression, distaste for something unconsidered sitting obvious on a grimace. [break][break]

“No. I haven’t.” Blue eyes becoming heavy, lost in thought as he looks down at her charting invisible courses across his arm. Tension slips, down from his shoulders and into his chest; only to become eased on an exhale of words. [break][break]

“Y’know, I spent a long time as a kid watching my mother borrow money. From her parents, siblings… Me. I always hated it. And not ‘cus I know I’ll never get it back, I'm fine with that.” [break][break]

Gradually, his fingertips unfurl, roughened pads idly brushing against the soft underside of Skyler’s forearm. Slowly. Back and forth, close to her wrist. Hand and heart opening up, as the storm begins to thin. [break][break]

“I know she doesn’t mean bad, but just the thought of taking and taking from someone you care about… Relying on them to keep you afloat while you coast, it’s…” Angelo pauses, words tangled on his tongue from disuse – in frustration and confliction. Before his eyes, slits of weighty dark blue in their turbulence of the past and present, but no longer his future, finally peer up to her in absolution. “I don’t want to be like that.” [break][break]

I won't be. No matter what. But…[break][break]

“I’ll consider it.” He utters carefully, tension – uncertainty – still apparent through a crinkled brow and stiff shoulders; in the slight squeeze against Skyler’s wrist. “Just think about what I said. Even if I go for it, it’s not like I’m guaranteed to get one approved…” [break][break]

And if he does have to play the year-long game, Angelo knew having her in his corner would ease the burdens of a chained soul.

[attr="class","skylerw"]

What is one more year?
[break][break]
He'd be able to do it, she knows. There isn't a shred of doubt in her mind that he'd take any backbreaking, soul-sucking job to be able to afford the skies. He breathes passion and utter conviction into his words, remnants of a dream he'd cradled, fragile, between calloused palms - too wary to let it see the light of day. Until now, that is.
[break][break]
Skyler would never think to stand in the way of Angelo's ambitions, not when they bring a fierce, passionate light to his eyes. A flickering fire that she wants to dance around, partake in - preferably with a bottle of tequila in hand and laughter on her breath. But she does stand uncompromising in the steely gaze that pins him down, much more efficiently than her own hands could've.
[break][break]
She'll drag him into uncharted waters kicking and screaming if need be.
[break][break]
"Please let me be clear, Angel." The stubborn pull of her mouth, which had been ready to spat and growl at him, grows relaxed. No smile curls her lips however, expression serious and intent as her finger idly follows the lines of his muscles. Thinking on the story that spills from his mouth. About his mother, his family... "I'm not offering you anything. This," and she motions to the kitchen, the apartment, the Sotally Tober, "isn't charity. This is home. Mine. Yours." Ours, whatever that might mean. Her voice brooks no arguments. "... Sammy's." The Gulpin peeks out of the cupboard, but makes no motion to get out. "Also Dorado's."
[break][break]
She moves her hand to intertwine calloused fingers with Angelo's, the determined set of her face growing suddenly fiercer. "And I will punch you if you fight me on that." The threat isn't an empty one, not if the fierce flash of teeth is any indication.
[break][break]
Storm clouds pull away from a surface of silver, and Skyler Dross lets some of the tension gathered in her muscles escape in a deep exhale. A thumb brushes over his skin as piercing eyes consider him. "You'll be flying soon, Angel. And the skies will be yours." There isn't an inch of doubt in her statement, uttered with unshakable confidence. More fact than possibility. As if just by saying it, she'd make it true.
[break][break]
"Now, what about dinner, Angel? I know you bum around all day, but I'm actually a hardworking sailor here..." The shit-eating, lopsided grin that peeks up at Angelo dispels the rest of the maelstrom. Playfulness taking its place.

[attr="class","angelow"]

Home, he decides, sounds best falling from her lips. [break][break]

But unlike the use of the word uttered beneath firework illuminated skies, when tongues and minds were fuzzy around the edges from tequila and rum, it’s clear. Intimate in a different way, that’s solid and real in its certainty. [break][break]

Home – the Sotally Tober, Skyler Dross – is tangible and warm, all around him. His. [break][break]

Angelo’s heart resounds in a similar tune to the memory from back then, too; when the declaration was first whispered between shared breaths and perilously balanced emotions. [break][break]

Only now the feeling he harbours bears a name. Now, he doesn’t avert his gaze.[break][break]

“I know you will.” Fingertips interlace with his and he squeezes on instinct, the sharp glow of Skyler’s eyes met with an unwavering, serious acknowledgement of his own. [break][break]

At least until she assures him the skies and Angelo’s consideration, his tension, trickles away. Replaced instead by a wild curl of his lips, and a breath that exhales in quiet amusement. A spark in his eye that's ravenous to devour ozone and give chase, to master, storms. [break][break]

He’ll bring her stardust, he decides, as proof of his ventures – of his conquests above the ocean surface. [break][break]

“Fine, fine. Then you can clear the table of all the stuff I did while bumming around all day.” A chin is tilted towards the table in which he had sort-of tidied on Skyler's return home, now dishevelled and crumpled in her rage. A smug grin of his own falters moments after, however; replaced by something a little more thoughtful, his next words trickling out into the open, slow.[break][break]

“And, if you're up for it, after dinner we can look over what I've got.” The together goes unsaid, although it needn’t be. [break][break]

The invitation holds more weight than a simple request to listen. It’s a hand reached forward, an open arm to give input, to share in a process he had always protectively made his own. Inviting Skyler the chance to step all the way in. [break][break]

“Though only if my hardworking sailor isn’t asleep on her feet, by then.” [break][break]

---

[break][break]

“An 'ironic punishment' for Lars… Okay, how about they’ll lock him up – but it's in a sauna? With nothing but the Slugma for company.” [break][break]

Cheek squished into his palm as he lazily grins, elbow on the table, Angelo’s gaze drags from the mess of documents that has once more taken over. Papers are again scattered, joined this time by empty drink cans pushed to the edges and a half-eaten bag of potato chips. Chaotic proof of a long-spent evening pouring over options, before divulging into relaxation and alcohol. [break][break]

And a bit of ribbing towards a convoluted AQUA Initiative contract, that had been met with a resounding dismissal. [break][break]

As a heavy-lidded gaze lingers upon her, knee bumping against Skyler’s in their close proximity on the bench, softly curled lips fall silent…

[attr="class","skylerw"]

He loses her about ten minutes in. Nigh-on unreadable numbers and sums peer up at her, meaningless, as Angelo's voice points out his reasoning behind each of the options he'd considered. Calloused digits catch on crumpled documents as she struggles to follow, though her attention doesn't wane.
[break][break]
The sailor can't help the sneer that crosses her features when names such as Silph Co and Devo Co meet her sharp scrutiny - if she has anything to say about it, they won't get their greedy, corporate claws on of Angelo. He's hers.
[break][break]
In the end Skyler doesn't contribute much, especially as papers are cast aside to indulge instead in relaxation and beer. She offers an attentive ear and relates what she can about her own experience as a self-employed treasure hunter/ship captain. Freedom-seeking and horizon-hungry, there's the same kind of untamed lust in his eyes that she sees in her own reflection; much too drunk on distant shores and skies to be fully there.
[break][break]
As a knee bumps into hers and a soft curl of halfway inebriated lips meets her lazy perusal, she's forced to amend that last thought. Heat unfurls within her belly, reaching out to darken molten silver, spreading to grasp at her last sober braincell - and replacing her previous thoughts with something far more pleasant. And while the uncomfortable feelings his gesture rouses within her would normally have her backtrack in alarm, they're sufficiently smothered by a thin haze of alcohol. This time.
[break][break]
She winds a leg around Angelo's in response, pulling him closer with a slowly widening smirk and a flash of teeth that usually preludes trouble.
[break][break]
"Lock him with Betty in the boiler room. You know how she gets when someone new visits." Overly enthusiastic fails to describe the Heatran's stifling, puppy-like excitement. "I'm pretty sure he wouldn't be able to freeze anything in that room." At least not for long. "Oh, and no alcohol." A thoughtful pause. "Or vaping."
[break][break]
Skyler's having too much fun building torturing scenarios in her head for her friends. It's only when when silence falls that exhaustion catches up to her, sore muscles twinging in warning. To add insult to injury, her skin is still salt-stained from a day spent out at sea. 
[break][break]
Well then.
[break][break]
Her fingers draw a line down Angelo's biceps as she rises from her seated position, heading to either the bedroom or the bathroom. Pausing at the threshold, mercury catches on Angelo's lounging figure with deliberate intent. An eyebrow is quirked up, drawing the line of a silent, playful dare. Something restless and wild flickers from behind her half-lidded gaze. "Well, you comin'? My back won't wash itself."
[break][break]
The consequent smirk is wholly unapologetic.
[break][break]