Bloodtide

Part 19

Sitting around the fire, the darkness enveloping us, I sighed deeply, coming to terms with the reality of our situation. John was humming a few tunes as he laid back, clearly drunk from the liquor we had found.

I was feeling a bit tipsy myself; the liquor was strong but also our only source of comfort and warmth. "So, can you explain the tail situation?" he burped, breaking the silence.

"You explain why you're scared of Davy Jones," I challenged in return, watching him take another shot.

"Ladies first," he hiccuped, his words slurring slightly.

I grabbed the bottle from his hands, taking a drink myself before answering. "My mother was a mermaid... so her genes mixed with my father's created me," I confessed quietly, the firelight flickering across my face.

"That's something you don't see everyday," he muttered, clearly surprised.

"She died when I was young. Father always taught me to stay away from the water."

"But I've seen you drink and touch water without changing," he pointed out, genuinely curious.

"It's only triggered when I'm in the ocean... saltwater," I explained, passing the bottle back to him.

He took a long drink, contemplating my words. "Your turn," I smiled softly, waiting for him to share his story.

John took another swig from the bottle, his expression thoughtful as he stared into the fire crackling in front of us. Finally, he sighed heavily, as if debating whether to share his story.

"He holds a debt over me that I can never repay."

I listened intently, the firelight casting shadows on his face as he continued.

"Years ago, I made a deal with him to save my ship and my crew. But in return, I lost something... someone," he confessed, his voice tinged with regret and pain.

"What did you lose?" I asked softly, sensing the weight of his words.

"My soul," he admitted, his gaze distant as if reliving a painful memory. "I ended up, stealing his ship... in return, I thought my soul would return, but it seems it hasn't," he chuckled bitterly, a bitter edge to his laughter.

Silence settled between us, the crackling of the fire the only sound in the still night air. I reached out, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, feeling the tension in his muscles.

"He wants revenge for what I did, for taking what he claimed was his."

"That's why you refused to believe the men's theories," I whispered, connecting the dots.

"Yep," he replied, chucking down more liquor with a resigned expression.

I realized in that moment that perhaps we weren't so different after all. He rested his head against a nearby rock, looking at me with a mixture of weariness and camaraderie.

"So what shall we do? We're both stranded here," I said, breaking the silence.

"We drink obviously" he laughed.

Biting my lip, I gently took the bottle from his hand and placed it aside. I slowly climbed my body over his body. "You're not as bad as I thought, John," I said softly, resting my hand on his chest.

He looked at me, surprise flickering in his eyes, then a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "And you're not as naive as you seem," he replied, his voice quieter now.

"I actually think if anybody has Henry, it's probably Davy Jones," he spoke quietly, causing me to lean closer, intrigued.

"Why?" I asked in a low tone, my breath close to his ear.