Vivienne yanked the door open with a scowl. "Okay, okay. I'm up."
Cirrus leaned against the doorframe, mirth flickering in his ice-blue eyes. "Are you?"
She scrubbed a hand over her face, blinking blearily at him.
Cirrus’ expression warmed. His eyes traced from the tangles in her red hair, to the sleep still clinging to her features, and to the loose, wrinkled fabric of her shirt. A hum filled Vivienne’s core. For a moment, time twisted, and he was standing in another doorway, in another life, waking her up with a kiss instead of a knock. A few years ago, she’d looked forward to waking up next to him for the rest of their lives.
Now, he could only watch as she blinked the sleep from her eyes and stepped past him into the lantern-lit hallway.
* * *
Vivienne followedCirrus up to the quarterdeck, the crisp night air prickling against her skin. The ocean stretched into the darkness, its surface silvered beneath the stars. They burned just as bright as the night before, endless and overwhelming, but exhaustion dulled her appreciation.
Cirrus moved to the navigation table, his hands brushing over the brass instruments with practiced ease. "We'll start with The Guiding Light star in the north again," he said, motioning toward the sextant. "I'll show you how to adjust for the drift in last night's readings."
Vivienne wrapped her fingers around the instrument, its cool weight grounding her as Cirrus guided her through the process.
She peered through the lens, aligning the star against the horizon. "It's curious," she murmured, almost to herself. "How the stars stay so still while everything else moves."
Cirrus’ gaze lingered on her profile. "The stars are like old friends," he said quietly. "You can always trust them to guide you home."
Vivienne lowered the sextant, casting him a sidelong glance. His eyes searched hers as if waiting, hoping for something.
“That’s a bit cliché,” she exhaled, shaking off the pull between them. "Maybe you should make some real friends," she teased.
Cirrus huffed a laugh, flashing her a crooked smile. "You make a fair point."
She stepped closer to the charts, eager to shift focus. "So... what do we do with these numbers?"
As they returned to their calculations, the tension remained—an unspoken thread winding between them. Vivienne felt his gaze on her more than once, the echoes of their past lingering in the space between every word.
When they finished logging the charts and relayed the course adjustments to the helmsman, Cirrus stretched with a satisfied sigh. "That’s it for tonight," he said, giving her a small smile before heading toward the stairs.
Vivienne followed, her feet dragging as the promise of sleep beckoned.
Halfway down, her boot slipped.
"Ah—!"
The deck tilted beneath her as her ankle twisted, gravity yanking her forward.
Strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her back against solid warmth.
The world slowed.
Cirrus held her tight, his breath warm against her temple.
Vivienne’s heart pounded, her fingers fisting the fabric of his shirt. The scent of leather and spices surrounded her, familiar in a way that made her chest ache.
"Banns," he murmured, his voice rough with concern. "Are you alright?"
She swallowed hard, tilting her face up. His ice-blue eyes searched hers, his grip tightening as if anchoring her to him. The moonlight traced the sharp edges of his face.
For one breathless second, she thought he might kiss her.
And worse—she might want him to.
Vivienne jolted back, the spell shattering as she stepped onto solid ground. Her fingers slipped from his chest. "I-I’m fine," she stammered. "Thank you. For catching me."
