Fics like only honest when it rains

"The water is rising higher now, picking up as the storm and as the song does. It’s at his knees, breaking away even more pieces of the rock below him as it ebbs and flows. It does not stop moving, and neither does he. The idea for their ship is Cyrus’s. The name, Mary Katharine’s. The metal and sweat and hours of labour are shared between himself, Addison, and Ahlaam. But that motto— that is all his. Or, rather. It’s no one’s. The ocean does not have a monster for a father, or a sister with no memory of its face. The ocean does not have a mother’s corpse to clutch onto, digging in with its nails as though it could claw her back to life by sheer force of will. The ocean does not have expectations to disappoint, friends to lose, duties to fulfill at the cost of the only true selfhood it’s ever been able to find. The ocean is not a person. All it needs to do is move, and break, and rage. The storm is the same. The water is part of both, after all. It’s part of him. I am the storm, he thinks to himself, a vicious echo of words he’s only heard repeated from Ahlaam. Not you. You are not worthy of it." Fortnight Day 11: Storm

Fics like only honest when it rains

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