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Summary
The sight of the little, familiar crevice in the rocky wall made his breath stutter in his ribcage, a portion of the tension he didn’t even know he held falling off his shoulders. He squeezed himself between the rocks, immediately feeling safer once he was out of the open water.
He arranged the seaweed in the crevice, lining the bottom and stuffing the little cracks until he was as satisfied with it as he could be, the rocks no longer chafing against his tail. With a little trill in the back of his non-existent throat, Cross curled up in the small nook, forcing down the heat in his bones as it spiked every now and then.
It’d be a long day, he guessed.