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Aaron eyes the crab suspiciously. "I swear to Irene, if you snip that fucking rope..."
The crab's black shell shimmers in the moonlight, and his claw hovers terrifyingly close to the only rope holding the anchor in place. Aaron's stuck at the helm, navigating through heavy gusts of wind and rain. The storm is strong tonight — if Zane snaps that rope again, Aaron might throttle him.
Just then, a large wave hits the side of the ship. Aaron curses, managing to take back control, but with his eyes off Zane, the crab has free range to do what he pleases.
Snip.
"Bastard," Aaron mutters, before screaming in annoyance. "I am going to boil you."
Zane cackles in delight.
"Ya know, I've been craving crab legs recently. Ever since we stopped in that port town. Saw some nice crabs, but couldn't afford them. I'm sure you've got some nice meat under that shell, eh?"
"Aphmau, he's threatening my life again!" Zane yells out, rattling his claws. "Come tame the human!"
Zane scurries towards the cabin door. It's nearly coming off its hinges, and past fires have charred the surrounding wood. Aaron always keeps an eye on it — he doesn't have enough coin to fix more rotten wood.
"Mmph, I just got to sleep," Aphmau murmurs from the room. She usually likes to sleep on deck, but during storms like this, Aaron would rather she sleep in some sort of shelter. "What happened this time?"
"The damn crab snipped the anchor rope again," Aaron calls over the white noise of harsh wind. "Can you go grab it?"
"I have a name, you know," the crab huffs.
"Not on this ship, you don't."
"Fuck you."
Aphmau rubs her hands across her face. "Dammit, crab." She pushes herself up from the rough floor — the hard, bare wood is preferred to what flat, scratchy pillows they own.
Aphmau crawls through the half-open door and onto the slippery wet deck. She squints at the wind blowing into her eyes and makes her way to the ship's side, pulling herself up on the ledge.
"Be careful; the ocean's rough tonight," Aaron yells again.
"Thank you, Captain!" And with that, she dives below, searching for the anchor and scraps of rope.
Aaron watches her splash into the deep blue, praying the anchor isn't that hard to find. She's gone to find it many times before when Zane was feeling mischievous, but never during such a storm. He wishes it weren't so dark.
Aphmau's grown on him over these last few months. She's loud, naïve, and oftentimes bordering on annoying, but there's just something about her. She's surprisingly strong, having saved his ass on numerous occasions, and having a mermaid on his crew is quite the advantage when dealing with pirates.
And, well, she's beautiful. But not just that — her kindness and eagerness to please makes his heart jolt with something akin to affection. Maybe something more, if longing looks and offhand comments mean anything. He tries not to think about that, but it's hard when the feeling grows stronger every day.
There's a loud knock against the side of the boat. "Shit," Aaron mutters, and glances back down below. "Aph? You okay down there?"
"I've— I've got it!" Aphmau pants. Visibility is tough through the pouring rain, but Aaron can see her clinging to the ship with one wobbly hand. The anchor and its rope are slung over her shoulder. "It's just— it's really slippery."
Aaron's about to lean forward to try and help, but a wave crashes behind her. She yelps, face banging against the hull. "Oh, hell—" she braces for another wave, struggling for grip. She never lets go of the anchor.
The waves knock Aaron off his feet, sliding toward the other side of the ship. "Fuck. Wait right there, I'll get you a rope or something," he shouts.
"Hurry!"
Aaron slips and slides across the deck, rushing towards the first thing he sees. There are barrels in front of the cabin, mostly holding Zane's collection (hoard) of 'shinies.' Aaron grabs them, quickly untying the ropes holding them upright. The barrels fall back to the ground, rolling around as wave after wave hits the ship. He doesn't exactly care, though. Not when his one-woman crew is in danger (and when most of the shiny hoard is junk).
He throws the rope down, praying this will hold. He waits until he feels a heavy tug on the other end, signaling Aphmau's grip, and pulls as hard as possible. Slowly but surely, Aphmau is climbing up the side, anchor in hand.
She falls to the ground, panting and exhausted, anchor tossed to the side. Her tail twitches erratically, but she doesn't notice. She simply wipes her hair from her damp face, brows furrowing when she notices her hand comes back red. "Oh."
"Shit, let me see," Aaron drops the rope and kneels in front of Aph. He tilts her chin up, examining the wound on her cheek. "You're pretty scratched up, aren't ya?"
Aphmau sighs, blinking slowly, long, wet eyelashes sticking together. She pouts, "I didn't even realize."
"I'm sure," Aaron shakes his head, and in one fell swoop, he lifts her into his arms. "C'mon, let's get you patched up."
Aphmau squeaks in surprise. It's been a while since he's carried her like this. "Hey!" she protests. "Don't drop me."
"Who do you think I am?" Aaron responds, despite his steps being wobbly and unbalanced on the rocky waves.
"A pirate."
"I have morals."
"Some," Aphmau's tail whacks against Aaron's side, almost toppling him over.
"Stop being a nuisance!"
She sticks her tongue out.
"You're such a child."
She laughs loudly.
He does not smile.
In the dark dryness of the small cabin, Aaron sets Aphmau down on her usual barrel seat. "Is it bad?"
Aaron kneels down, ghosting his fingers over her face. "Nothing a bit of gauze can't fix."
She smiles warmly as he turns away, rummaging through their little medical supplies. The cut stings, but her smile doesn't falter.
"Here," Aaron dabs her face, drying the mix of blood and salt water. She winces and momentarily flinches.
"Sorry—" she gasps. "Hurts."
"I know," Aaron continues to press the gauze against her cheek. "Just stay still." He places his free hand on her warm, soft hip, grazing the line where scales meet skin. His hand twitches, brushing against a fin, and she hisses in surprise.
"Ow!"
They both look down, noticing a notch in the fin that wasn't there before. It's jagged and rough, with a large scrape running across the side of her tail.
"Oh," Aphmau purses her lips. "Ouch."
Aaron shakes his head, "How the hell do you deal with fish injuries?"
Aphmau laughs, "I'll be fine. You worry too much."
"I do not—"
She's gleaming at him, eyes sparkling with the same youthful wonder she had when they first met. "It's okay. I care about you, too."
Aaron sputters, taken aback. "I care about the crew—"
"So, you care about Zane?"
"That fuck-ass crab? Hah," Aaron stands, putting the gauze aside. "Would hardly call him crew. Just a menace of a stowaway."
Aphmau giggles again, cheeks red. Then there's a silence — nothing but the pitter-patter of rain and crashing of waves.
Aaron hates to stand and stare dumbly, so he clears his throat. "We'll dock in the morning. I'll get a restock of rope and some food."
Aphmau nods excitedly. "I can't wait."
He nods back, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Get some sleep. And don't get hurt next time, alright?"
"Aye-aye, Captain."