Daughter of the pirate king (an ateez fanfiction)

Chapter 12

I feel the expected longing of the ocean. I always feel it after I use my song. My chest aches. It burns, yearning to go under the water where it can be soothed and nourished. I don't need the strength of the ocean to survive, though, only to replenish my song—to strengthen the part of me that I try to keep hidden. But replenishing my abilities has its own consequence. That other part of me tries to take over, something I can't risk until after I've completed my mission. I am mostly human. But when I allow myself to use the gifts my mother gave me, I become something else. And it kills me a little inside each time I have to fight it back off.

I slip back into Seonghwa's room right before the sun starts to rise. I've got to put the key to the door back into his pocket. But Seonghwa groans as he sits up in bed. I quickly move away from the door and jump into the chair at his desk. "What happened?" he asks, putting his hand to his head." Do you have a headache?" I ask. "You were groaning something fierce in your sleep." "No, it doesn't hurt. It feels..." 

I've sung to many men in the past. Those whom I've allowed to keep their memory of the experience have tried to explain to me what it feels like. I've heard it's euphoric. That it's pleasure and happiness all rolled into one. When I make them sleep, they dream about me all during the night. While I was growing up, there weren't many men who let me practice my songs on them. But I practiced anyway. It wasn't as though my mother was around to teach me. Father was eventually able to keep my abilities known to only a select group. He didn't want his rivals to know just how powerful I am. The fighting skills he taught me alone make me dangerous. And being half siren—well, that makes me deadly.

"It feels what?" I ask. "Nothing," he says quickly. He's retreated into his mind, searching through memories or dreams. Waking is usually disorienting for my victims. While it's amusing to watch him fumbling with his thoughts, I need to get this key back on Seonghwa before he notices it's gone. "Did you sleep well?" I ask. "Good dreams?" I know he dreamed about me, but that doesn't mean I know what I was doing in his dream. Of course, I don't expect Seonghwa to be honest. He looks dazed for a moment more. Then he seems to compose himself. "Yes. What happened yesterday? I can't..." I look at him sternly. "Were you drinking?" He sits up, puts his bare feet on the floor. "I don't drink that often. Never enough to get drunk. Especially not when I'm watching you." "But you don't remember our night together?" I'm thinking fast here. I need to get rid of this key. I have to find an excuse to get close to him. "Our night together?" Seonghwa looks beyond confused. I move to sit on his lap, making myself comfortable as I wrap my arms around his neck. Seonghwa freezes in place. "You really don't remember?" I whisper seductively into his ear. My hands are at his shoulders. I move one down his chest. He's solid as a rock, but his skin is smooth and warm. When I reach his waist, I drop the key into the pocket of his breeches. It's really just thieving, only backward. 

Seonghwa exhales and puts his hands on my hips. "Why don't you remind me?" I slide my hands down his arms until I can entwine our fingers. "There was some of this." "Mmm hmm." "And this." I press my lips to his and kiss him gently. He returns in kind. "Then what happened?" he whispers when I break away and trace my lips along the edge of his ear. "Then—" I pause and lean farther into him. "You promised to help me get off the ship." He leans me back as if to lay me on the bed. Then he drops me. I hit the sheets with a soft plump. "I think I would remember that," he says, shoving my legs onto the bed aswell. "Don't worry," I say. "I'm sure everything will come back to you soon enough." "In the meantime, Hongjoong will be expecting me." He walks over to the closet and rummages through the clothes I've left in heaps on the floor, grunting in displeasure as he searches. Once he finds what he's looking for—a pair of breeches—he starts sliding off the pair he has on, watching my reaction as he does so. "Stop that," I say, turning around quickly. He laughs softly. I should have kept calm, and I shouldn't have turned around. If I had simply shrugged as though it didn't bother me at all, Seonghwa wouldn't have been so amused. He would have taken his clothes elsewhere, I'm sure of it. But it all started so suddenly that I was unprepared with a response. There's nothing to do about it now.