That night, Ian lay in his bed. He heard soft breathing in the darkness and reached out a hand towards the warm, comforting presence. Their fingers touched. Held each other. His hand was so warm, his touch so gentle.

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  Ian awoke in a rocking, makeshift hammock in the first mate’s cabin aboard the Pearl’s Mistress. There was no one else there with him, and the only breathing he could hear was cacophonic snoring from Sammy in her bed on the other side of the room. Now that he heard it, he wasn’t sure how he had slept at all.