Unsinkable

For Forever

"Here you go, love," Kai said, handing Cinder a warm cup of tea. She smiled up at him and accepted the blue china cup, wrapping her fingers around the cylindrical frame. He would have brought out a saucer for her to rest the cup on, but in their many months of marriage, Kai had yet to get Cinder to see the reasoning behind such a thing.

"Thank you," Cinder said, taking a sip of her tea. She held it close to her body, as if she were cold and the cup was her only source of warmth. Kai set his own cup of tea aside and crawled into bed with her, nestling against her side.

He laid his head in her lap and closed his eyes, perfectly content with the world. Sure, he was on a ship sailing toward the land that held the man who was supposed to have married his wife— a land that he had been to only on a few occasions and found confusing and foreign. But he was with Cinder, and that made everything seem right.

Cinder let out a content sigh, then placed her own teacup aside, empty as it was, and ran her fingers through Kai's hair. Her touch was only gentle as her fingers played with his inky strands of hair. It was a side to Cinder that only Kai, and perhaps Winter, knew. A side that was love and not ferocity, though there was always some sarcasm to be dealt with on both sides.

Kai flipped onto his back so that he could gaze up at her. She grinned down at him, though her face was pale and her eyes tired. Kai felt his heart tug as he took in her features— the sickness that had overcome her upon that day. Even though he knew it was nothing, it still made him ache to see her in any form of misery. She was his dearest love, and her pain was his.

"How are you feeling?" Kai asked, reaching up a hand to touch Cinder's face. She leaned into the touch, closing her eyes as Kai's hand cupped her cheek. Her hair fell about her face, not confined to its usual knot or tail on the back of her head, and Kai brushed the strands away.

"Not bad now," Cinder said, clucking her tongue. "That tea fixed me up real nice. You British people sure know how to make a cup."

"No, you Americans just don't know how," Kai laughed, lifting himself upright so that he sat shoulder to shoulder with Cinder. "I swear, it's like you people played that game— telephone— in learning how to make tea. Absolutely barbaric."

Kai reached for his own cup and took a sip, relishing the warmth that spread through his very being. He remembered the first time that Cinder had made him tea, back before their secret relationship had begun and the two had just been very fond, close friends. It had been a wonderful day, terrible, abominable tea aside. It was a day filled with sunshine on green leaves and cool brown dirt; a day with only life and laughter that floated endlessly on gentle breezes.

"Well, you know us Americans— always rebelling. Ruining tea was simply our way of really breaking things off."

"That explains a lot," Kai chuckled. He set his cup aside, smacking his lips lightly and folding his arms contentedly over his middle. Cinder placed a hand on his arm, her fingers icy as they touched his skin. Kai flinched, then took hold of her hand, warming it between his own.

They said no words— Cinder simply watched as Kai absently nurtured warmth back into her hands. It was a rather common occurrence between the two, with Cinder always running cold and Kai hot. It was almost strange, the comfortableness of the situation as a whole— the way in which love was no question but always the answer.

"Winter stopped by today," Kai said, remembering the incident of Cinder's cousin coming to their room. "She wanted to talk to you— seemed rather distressed— but you, of course, were yacking in the can."

Cinder elbowed him, though it held little malice. "If that is what you told her, Kai Prince, I swear on all the stars–"

"Oh don't get your knickers in a twist," Kai laughed, pulling Cinder's fingers up to his lips and kissing each knuckle. "I only told her that you were seasick. I said nothing of Carswell Thorne Jr."