I don't know what's gotten into me. Maybe it's the charm of her smile, or the fact that I haven't had a lover in years, but something about her draws me in. She’s a thief, a vagrant, her soul is corrupted with a power that feeds off her emotions. I’ve studied it, and I still don’t understand. For all rights, she should be dead.

She experienced a storm as a child- took all of her family and her crew, and spat her out. She doesn’t talk much about it. I don’t mind, I don’t talk about myself much. I was hired by Ashriel Karn to monitor her- make sure that she didn’t die, so that she could get their ship across the Rift. She’s crossed several times, smuggling goods from the New World to the Old World.

And now, I’m in the bed of that very same woman, on a Rezemar ship. Rezemars are the New World’s law enforcement. Their Warden, Rael, is helping us because he doesn’t believe the New World council is doing enough to protect them from the same freak storms that plague the old world. So we’re on his ship, trying to make it over the deadly chasm that separates the worlds.

The ships rocks gently, swaying softly with the waves. She’s passed out, heavy arm slung over my waist. I lay there and stare at the ceiling of her quarters, attempting to will myself to sleep. She’s been on boats since she was a child, and finds it much easier to fall asleep like this. Personally, I’m partial to solid ground. I listen to her snoring softly, and bite back a smile.

A few particularly rough moments have me grabbing at her arm, petrified that we’re about to sink. She stirs at the feeling of my nails digging into her bicep, and pulls me closer. “What’s up, little mouse?” She mumbles, almost incoherent but well-meaning. “The ship.” I reply tersely, still gripping her arm. She hums, tucking her face into my neck.

“Nothin’s going t’happen. You’re fine, mouse.” She mumbles, pressing a sleepy kiss to my chin. She mouths along my neck a bit before she raises her head, sleepy eyes focusing on mine. “I’ve got you.” She whispers, voice raspy but sincere. I smile, though I still feel guilty. She’s so obviously tired, but I know that she won’t let herself sleep until I’m relaxed enough to sleep myself.