Vivienne glanced up to find Commander Thorne stepping out of his cabin two doors down. His dark eyes flicked to her hands, then the lock. He waited for half a breath before closing the distance between them.
"Would you like some help?" His voice was neutral, but his gaze lingered on her trembling hands.
She pressed her lips together. Pride warred with exhaustion before she sighed in surrender. “Yes.”
The commander extended a palm. She dropped the key into his hand, and in a single, fluid motion, he turned it in the lock. By the time she’d finished rubbing her eyes, the door swung open, held there by his outstretched arm.
A mix of relief and irritation tangled in her chest. "I can do it, you know," she muttered, shifting her weight. "I'm just... so tired."
"I understand." His voice held no judgment, only quiet acknowledgment as he glanced down at his boots.
Something about that response caught her off guard. She studied him in the low light, the sharp planes of his face softened by shadow. "You're different than I thought you'd be."
A smirk ghosted across his lips. "A different kind of jerk, you mean?" His gaze lifted, meeting hers.
Heat crept up her neck. She winced, shutting her eyes. "You heard that?"
"The whole orlop deck did."
Vivienne’s stomach twisted. Her temper always burned too hot, too fast, leaving embers of regret in its wake. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I didn’t mean anything by it. You’re just doing your job."
Thorne inclined his head, accepting the apology with an air of quiet appreciation. A loose strand of dark hair slipped free, falling against his cheek.
"In my defense," she added, "this has been the strangest and hardest week of my life. I’m not at my best right now."
With an almost imperceptible shift in his expression, he murmured, "I wouldn’t expect you to be."
Vivienne stared in incredulity.Empathy? From Commander Thorne?
A silence stretched between them, not uncomfortable, but weighted with something unspoken. It wasn’t until her gaze dropped to his still-outstretched arm that she realized he had been holding the door open the entire time.
"Oh. Thanks," she said quickly, stepping inside.
As the door clicked shut behind her, Vivienne’s cheeks flushed. It was the second time Thorne had held the door open for her for an ungodsly amount of time.
* * *
Warmth kissedher skin as the dream unfolded. The golden afternoon bathed Vantner’s shore in soft light, the scent of sea salt and baked goods mingling in the breeze. She spread out a checkered picnic blanket, smoothing the fabric as Johanna pulled an impossible number of pastries from a wicker basket. To her left, Briar and Lewis raced along the beach, their kites soaring. The ribbons snapping and twisting in the wind. To her right, her parents strolled at the water’s edge, waves lapping at their bare feet as they laughed, lost in quiet conversation.
Vivienne sighed, sinking into the blanket and tugging the brim of her oversized hat over her eyes. The sounds of the waves blended with Johanna’s voice as she began to hum, then sing a melody that tickled the edges of Vivienne’s memory. The same song Bare Fang Bill and his lads had sung at the Harvest Moon Festival, the one about the isles and the tributes.
Had she first heard it here, in a moment like this? Had Johanna unknowingly woven it into her childhood, letting the tune settle deep in her bones?
The words wove through the air like a gentle current, and she strained to listen.
"Vivienne."
The voice was distant at first.
She ignored it. If Cirrus needed something, he could come to her.
"Vivienne," his voice came again, firmer this time.
Annoyance rippled through her as she pushed herself upright, only to find the beach and the picnic had vanished. The soft sand was gone, replaced by the solid wood of her bunk. The air smelled of salt and lantern smoke, not Johanna’s pastries. Her eyes fluttered open just as another knock sounded against her cabin door.
She groaned, dragging herself upright.I couldn’t have been asleep for more than thirty minutes.
"Night shift," Cirrus called through the door, his voice muffled.
