Ethereal

Chapter 20: Revelations

A pit of nervousness opened in my stomach. Why were we going back to his room? I had always been curious to see what his room looked like, but I never imagined I'd get to go in and see it for myself. Was he mad that I went topside? It wasn't entirely my fault – I was just trying to help whoever had been out there. I hadn't been quick enough though, as the sea most likely dragged them over the railing and into its bottomless depths before I could reach them. It was the only explanation as to where they could have gone, but for some reason that didn't sit right with me. Something else was going on, and I couldn't put my finger on what.

Jax opened his cabin door and shuffled me inside the dark room, closing the door quickly behind him as he moved to light the lantern next to his bed. The soft light slowly illuminated the room, casting our long shadows against the walls.

It was much larger than I imagined it to be, though to be fair I have been sleeping in a storage closet for the past several weeks. The room furnished with a decently sized bed with an oak wardrobe next to it, an official-looking desk pressed up on the opposite wall from the bed. There was only one window on the far wall from the door, a fist-sized porthole that let the light from the lightning strikes seep into the room spontaneously. His walls were devoid of decoration, his desk and night table lacking any kind of personal trinkets or pictures. I had spent an embarrassing amount of nights imagining what Jax's room must look like, and while it lived up to my expectations in a physical aspect, there was a coldness to the room that I couldn't shake. As though this were all staged for my benefit and mine alone.

I felt Jax move closer to me before I felt him, clearing my head of any and all thoughts instantly.

"Why did you go out on top deck? The storm could have swept you overboard." He said. Though his words sounded harsh, his voice was soft. He had been worried about me.

Had he not seen what I had seen? I opened my mouth to respond, feeling confused by his question, but an unexpected wave of chills overtook me. Instead of words flowing past my mouth, my teeth began to chatter instead.

Jax cursed under his breath and turned away from me, digging for something in the closet next to the bed. I watched the muscles in his back stretch under his shirt, engrossed in their movements before I shook my head to clear it of such thoughts. I sat down on his bed, my wet clothes soaking into his comforter. When he turned around, he had a blanket and a change of clothes in his hands, concern laced around his eyes.

"Change into these," he said. I help up a pair of pants and a shirt that two of me could have fit into. "Unless you want to sleep in your wet clothes." Jax said, seeing my hesitation. I rolled my eyes and stood up. Was I really about to change in front of him? What if he turned around before I was finished?

Another wave of shivers shot down my spine, the chill seeping into my bones in such a way that made my entire body ache. I had only been this cold a handful of times before during harsh winters at the orphanage, and while I somehow managed to always keep myself just warm enough to stay alive, some of the other girls hadn't been as fortunate. I didn't have a choice – and I didn't have a change of clothes back in my room. With a sigh, I fingered the hem of my shirt and began to pull the soaked fabric upwards, until I felt Jax's eyes on me again.

I looked over at him expectantly, but his eyes never left mine. I cleared my throat and he blinked, looking from my clothes back to me, realization dawning over his face. I fought back a blush that was creeping up into my cheeks and settling in my ears.

"Sorry," he mumbled, turning around so his back faced me.

I paused for a moment, my nerves almost getting the best of me, before I pulled my shirt over my head and unhooked my bra. I let them fall to the floor in a saggy heap with my pants following suit. For a moment I wondered if I should keep my underwear on and just wait for them to dry, but the chill that was raking up my legs convinced me to discard the entire ensemble. I muscled the pants over my legs and pulled the drawstring as tight as it would go, and the hem of the pants still hung low on my hips. I hope Jax isn't the pantsing type.