Dark Waters Rising

Confessions

Wesley closed his eyes as Valentine leaned forward and connected their lips softly. His stomach dipped down to his toes at the combination of dread, anxiety, and excitement that swirled through him. Wesley wasn't sure what he was doing—or rather why he was doing it. This was a dangerous game to be playing, especially knowing the pirate would die soon. He shouldn't be getting attached, but gods be damned if Valentine didn't make that nearly impossible. 

When Valentine pulled away after only a moment of the kiss, Wesley opened his eyes in confusion. He had expected something lustful and passionate. The brief, tender brush of their lips caught him off guard, and it left him feeling a bit empty. Like something was missing.

The pirate's gaze was soft and saddened as he studied every detail of Wesley's face, as if memorizing it. When their eyes met, Valentine gave his mate a small effortful smile, for he felt as if his whole face was being weighed down by grief and regret. For nearly his whole life, Valentine had been prepared to die. He had made his peace with death long ago, and it no longer scared him as it did when he was a boy. However, he thought it a cruel coincidence that he had found something worth living for just in time to die. The thought of never seeing Wesley again hurt more than any blade ever could. His soul ached at the thought, and the more he thought about leaving, the more it felt as though a hand had wrapped its fingers around his heart and was slowly squeezing the life out of it.

"Thank you," he whispered, pouring so much more meaning into the words than Wesley could ever understand.

The merchant's blue eyes were stormy as he forced himself to look away. The air between them was heavy, and he was finding it harder to breathe under its weight. Instead of Valentine's eyes, which he was sure would melt him, Wesley focused on the other man's shoulder where it resided just above the surface of the water. Without thinking, he reached forward to gently run his fingers over the magic-born black ink that now encased the entirety of the pirate's arm.

"Why does it grow?" he asked softly, tracing the tips of the furthest tendrils as they curled over the edge of Valentine's collarbone.

The pirate swallowed the lump in his throat as he glanced down at where the merchant touched his skin. "It's a countdown," he said numbly.

"What do you mean?" Wesley asked, his brows furrowing as he looked at the afflicted skin again.

"When it reaches my heart, I'm out of time."

Wesley's fingers slid the short distance down to where Valentine's heart resided. Fear for the inevitable constricted his throat and made him feel as though he was being strangled all over again.

"H-how long do you have?" his voice was barely audible, but Valentine still heard it crack.

"A day," he said softly. "Maybe two."

Wesley's vision blurred as moisture pooled in his eyes. He quickly closed them as he fought to maintain his composure. Right then and there, he made a vow that he would not cry over this. He couldn't. Crying for his crew's killer would feel like a betrayal when he hadn't even cried for his crew. Gods, he felt like a horrible person, but he couldn't help it. Despite everything, he wasn't ready for this.  

"There must be something you can do," he said, his voice thick. "W-what if you kill it? Before it kills you."

"It's impossible, Wesley," Valentine shot down his suggestion softly, reaching up to gently caress his mate's jaw. "I can't just hide on the island either. Once it arrives, I'll be drawn to it like you were to me when I sang for you."

"I-I could tie you to a tree or something," Wesley offered. All he'd wanted since he met Valentine was for the man to die, but now that it was coming, he changed his mind. Maybe he was being selfish, but Wesley didn't want to be alone. He was just starting to like the pirate, and he feared that with Valentine dead, he might go mad marooned on the island. He didn't feel as though his heart could take it either. He knew he didn't love Valentine, but he could tell that what the pirate spoke of was true. There was a connection between them—something magical and sweet and good—that drew them together despite their best efforts to be apart.