chapter 7 // prismatic

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❝ you say i make you nervous, a tragedy. ❞

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that following morning, despite what law had previously stated, he did, in fact, pass out in your room.

when you woke up, the curtains were open. the filtered light cast a warm glow over you, and despite your headache, you groggily opened your eyes. wincing, you let your headache settle before you glanced around. 

"what the-"

yet the moment your eyes opened, your breath was taken out of your lungs- stolen, in fact, straight up snatched by the greater beings. taken to heaven to create into strings of life, the coil of fate that was to be cut later. 

because your captain laid his head on your desk, his head in his arms, the light casting shadows and gold over his skin. he looked like a sheer sinner, one who had seen pure hell. one who had crawled straight out of hell with nothing but the skin on his back, yet had grown to see the golden touch of midas. 

in that moment, he still seemed like the greater up, somebody you could never, ever, hope to reach. he was prismatic, radiant, and shone with the brilliance of a million suns.

"you'll be prismatic."

his hair laid tousled and loose over his face, his cap beside him, and his eyebrows furrowed in what could only be annoyance, tiredness, or fear.

you slid out of bed, inching closer to him, your hair falling around your face. you gently moved your folded spear to the foot of your bed, careful not to break it.

oh, how badly you wanted to run your fingers over his ivory skin. 

"captain?" you prodded his arm with your index finger, which only gave you a grunt in return. he tried to turn and almost fell off the desk before he woke up, disgruntled, and looked around your room in sheer panic.

"why am i here?" he asked, and you shrugged in response. 

"dunno, cap, you were here when i woke up," he winced, holding his head in his hands, before scowling and standing up.

"quit gawking," he snapped, and wobbled to his feet. you were feeling a little tipsy yourself, so you held onto the desk for a little bit of support before you kept staring at him in shock. never, before, had he been so col- "and get out of a way, before a fly finds its way into your mouth."

your mouth shut with a snap, and your eyes followed him as he walked out, his back to you, as many others had done so long ago.

you pressed your hand over your chest.

it hurt, just like it had back then.


law was annoyed.

no, he wasn't annoyed, he was pissed; and not at you, but at himself.

hell knows that he didn't mean to stay, to linger, because he was hell-bent and no salvation could save him now. no one but jesus christ himself could pass law by to heaven, and he would thrive in the burning flames of hell for eternity. 

yet, he had let himself be enthralled; pulled and tethered into the lines of mortal meaningless existence. 

it was dawn and the light slithered into the planes of existence, but it was still far too early for his crew to be up after a night full of feast and party. the wind rippled through his hair and throat, bringing a welcoming chill through his chest, rattling his ribs. 

he groaned, gripping his hair before realizing that his hand touched his hair straight on. his hat was nowhere to be found atop his head, and he came to the grim conclusion that he had left it behind in your room.

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: Nov 27, 2023 ⏰

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