None So

I snuggled close to him, careful to keep the end of my right leg from touching his legs. He didn't like the reminder of his failure and my loss, though I knew I wouldn't be able to tell if he cried. The bandages I wrapped over his empty eye sockets, to keep them clean, would absorb them.

His hands wandered over my body, his way of telling me that he likes my company. I try not to wonder if the reason he doesn't talk to me is because his voice was taken from him, or because of…other things that happened back then.

The last time I heard his voice was when they burnt his eyes out.

I don't really know how long ago that was. I know that it's been long enough for our physical wounds to have fully healed. Beyond that, though, I have only the vaguest idea of what season it is, and I am not sure I could find out the month and the date if I tried. The only other human I've seen since the doctor Arlong paid to tend us left is him.

The fishmen…are not that interested in talking to me about current events. The ones who'd been friendly to me before I don't see anymore, and the others rarely feel the need to say much to me beyond what I need to told so I can perform my duties, old and new.

The one time I told him that I missed talking to him was the first and only time he started our lovemaking.

I only really enjoy it when I'm with him. The first time, with…I was not able to think about it. I'm not bothered by it anymore, though I do regret not being able to relax and appreciate it then.

Now, though, I do my best to make it good for him, too. I know he does not care one way or the other about it, and would be content with me curled up beside him. That he lets me have what I need, that he does not push me away when I need him...means a lot.

I don't think it's love, but at least it's something…and it's more than I deserve.