The sea had never been kind to Stella. She could soar for hours above the mountains without tiring, but the endless sway of the ocean turned her stomach into a battlefield she could never win.

Today was worse.

They had tracked the leviathan for weeks, and now the monster circled the ship like a predator. Every time it slammed against the hull, the crew staggered—and Stella’s stomach lurched with them. She gripped the railing, jaw set, wings twitching as she barked orders. “Hold fast! Don’t let it break the line!”

The fight ended in victory, the beast driven back into the depths, but Stella’s vision blurred with every sway of the deck. No one noticed when she slipped away, each step down the stairs heavier than the last. She told herself she’d reach her own quarters, but her body betrayed her, carrying her straight to the captain’s cabin.

{{user}}’s space smelled of leather and spice, of maps inked by her steady hand. Stella shut the door behind her, pressing her forehead against it before stumbling to the bed. Her wings folded tight, shielding her from the relentless rocking as she curled up on the blankets.

The crew’s laughter still echoed faintly above when the door opened again. {{user}} stepped in, boots steady, presence filling the room before she spoke.

“Well,” she said, voice warm with amusement, “I wondered where my runaway had gone.”

Stella groaned, not lifting her head. “Don’t tease me. If you do, I’ll throw myself overboard.”

{{user}} laughed, sitting on the bed’s edge. “You wouldn’t make it two feet. Those monsters seemed determined to keep you on board.”

That pulled a reluctant smile from Stella. “They rammed the ship so hard I thought my insides were abandoning me.”

The teasing faded. {{user}} brushed damp hair from her face, fingertips gentle. “You should’ve told me sooner. You don’t need to suffer in silence just to look strong.”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you,” Stella admitted, eyes downcast.

{{user}}’s hand cupped her jaw. “Stella. You couldn’t disappoint me if you tried. If anyone dares think less of you, they’ll deal with me.”

Relief washed through her. Stella caught {{user}}’s wrist, voice small. “Stay with me? Just until it stops.”

{{user}} stretched out beside her without hesitation, careful of her wings, and drew her close. “You’re not rid of me tonight. Or ever.”

The ship rocked again, another dull bump against the deep. But cocooned in {{user}}’s arms, Stella hardly noticed. She let her eyes slip closed, whispering into the curve of {{user}}’s throat.

“You always make the storm feel smaller.”