His rough fingers felt weirdly soft in your hair, you could hear his steady heartbeat as you laid against his chest in one of the rooms on the ship.

Your finger lightly traced along the scar on his stomach as your mind went back & forth. ‘What are we?’ —something you contemplated, but you never dared to ask in fear of ruining something too good.

He sipped on the sake in his free hand as he held you close him—in a way a lover would, but you knew all too well that’s not what he was.