A merman's tear (dreamnotfound)

Chapter Seven

Wind weaved through the blinds. A string with a wooden end flicked back and forth, making small tapping noises against the window frames every few minutes. At some point, while George had been asleep, someone had come into the medium-sized room and opened up one of the windows in the furthest corner away from George.

He assumed they'd opened that one, and not the one near him, because they thought he might somehow escape into the water through the window, but that was poor thinking on their side, considering George wouldn't even be able to fit through any of the windows if he tried.

He huffed slightly at that and yawned.

The tapping of the blinds is what had actually woken George up just a few minutes prior. He'd been having a night of restless sleep, but it was sleep nonetheless, so he was mildly peeved at being woken up. 

George thought about Dream, and their previous conversation. Well, it wasn't exactly a conversation, mostly just Dream being an annoying twat, but still. It had been two or so days since then, and there had been no sight of the blonde yet. George was glad he'd eaten just before this whole ordeal, so he could probably last another two days or so before he really needed to eat something. The thought of asking for food from his kidnappers didn't sit well with him, for his pride was too strong, so he just hoped they'd have some common sense and realise they needed to feed him soon. Dream seemed somewhat intelligent, so he hoped the man would come to that conclusion rather soon. And if not him, he hoped someone else on this godforsaken ship would. 

George wasn't sure just how many people actually lived on this ship, but he could tell it was far more than just the two he'd already encountered. Throughout him switching between just sitting there and sleeping, he'd heard chatter coming from the other side of the wall, and the sounds of people working. He'd even heard someone screech out cuss words at some point, his voice cracking while doing so, which at the time had made George chuckle just slightly. But then that had sent him into a fit of guilt, because he made the connection that whoever that was might have been one of the children that Dream had mentioned, due to the overall youthful yelling and pubescent voice cracking that had occurred. 

He tried not to let it get to him. He had no reason to help them, no debt to pay to them, and no emotional connections with them to make him feel guilty, but despite all that, the familiar feeling was settled deep in his heart, making itself comfortable. George hoped the feeling would go away soon. He wasn't allowed to feel bad. 

Lesson one after being left alone to fend for himself, George had decided so many years ago, was to trust no one, to help no one, and to only take care of himself. He'd kind of failed point two for saving Niki the dolphin, but he knew not to do that again. Up until then, those three rules had served him well. 

It shouldn't matter that he might be being cruel, he wouldn't sacrifice himself. 

They would never get his tears. He wouldn't let them. 

George sighed, letting his webbed hands flop over the sides of the glass as he pulled himself into a sitting position, trying to push those thoughts from his mind. The gentle wind blew against his skin, making him shiver slightly. He was always used to being cold, but the sensation was completely different when he was above water.

His skin had never felt like that before. Dry. He'd been above water, of course, but never for long enough to let himself dry. It felt weird. 

George tapped the glass under his fingers meaninglessly, as he let his mind wander off to distant seas and gentle breezes.

A couple of hours had passed, and his back was starting to get sore. He rubbed his face with his hand, and, woah. His hand was completely dry, and as he pushed it up his face, he felt his hair. His hair, that wasn't wet.