Sodalite and Aventurine (Larry Stylinson au)

CHAPTER III

SAPPHIRE

Louis finally woke to the sound of footsteps. They were upstairs, in the navigation room.

And that meant he had slept in.

Despite that, his sleep had been terrible. Because, preposterously, Harry had taken up his bed and Louis, in his need to not have him attempt to kill him or mount him in the night, had slept at his desk. He hadn't wanted to be the first to fall asleep so he made himself look busy with books and his logs, but it had seemed Harry hadn't wanted to sleep first either because he kept pestering Louis with questions. Questions that Louis refused to answer without a shot of rum.

It was a blessing in disguise to produce that bottle of rum Louis kept in his desk, because when Harry saw Louis take a sip when he asked about how long he'd been looking for Swan's maps, he asked to have a sip to. This made it easy for Harry to be pulled into sleep. And it made Louis' hard, leather bound chair, just about comfortable enough to sleep in. It made it just a little more bearable to crook his neck down onto the backs of his arms.

However, Louis' rum-laced sleep did not come without a few lulling moments where he mistook Harry's rhythmic breathing for something of a siren song. It made his sleep heavy, dark, like a storm was brewing. Like he was on the very bottom of the ocean floor, where not even the pink rays of morning sun could easily wake him.

The footsteps upstairs were Niall's, his wooden leg clicking every time he took a step, and that meant he was already performing his duties. He was probably discussing wind directions this time of year with Liam and how to get to Senegal fastest, or talking with Tavis about ships they'd likely encounter on the way.

Louis wasn't worried about sleeping late though, it was something his crew expected. It was often that he stayed up until the moon was high and then slept until the sun was too.

Though usually it was because he felt most at ease in the comfort of night, and not because he was trying to avoid a hostage hooked to his bed.

Louis groggily sat up from where his cheek had been pressed to his desk and peeled a loose leaf of paper from his face. As he wiped his eyes, the ocean slowly came into focus through his window. It was fluffy and white, a long trail where the ship had split through gentle waves.

"You didn't join me," came a voice from behind him. It was, of course, Harry. Louis spun around to find him leaning up against the bedpost, sitting on his knees, with his eyes intently on him.

"I don't share beds with strangers," Louis replied. His voice was still weighted with sleep.

"Well can I share something with you?" Harry asked, face open and relaxed.

Louis waited for whatever Harry was about to spout out as he stood and pulled on his jacket. It was too hot for it, but it gave him something to do.

Harry watched him quietly, eyes catching on the sleeves that Louis tugged on, with a faintly interested look. Eventually, he looked back up to Louis' face and smiled. "You have ink on your cheek."

Louis paused and looked at Harry, and then instinctively drew a hand to his right cheek.

"The other side," Harry added, smile growing as Louis started rubbing at his left cheek.