(jonas takes harsher breaths the closer the water gets to his jaw, red eyes squeezing shut on noctis first "okay." it's impossible not to sob his relief when finally he realizes he's getting help and that the sword in the stranger's hand won't be pointed at him but nowhere as it disappears entirely. there's a trick there that he might ask about when they're safe and dry, which leaves jonas with the impression "tomorrow," or "the next day," or "never." his teeth begin to chatter before ice even begins to bloom beneath his neck.)
Careful, (jonas warns, hacking on seawater, but he doesn't criticize noctis' fall for his own sake despite being momentarily submerged. if noctis hits his head or hurts himself, they'll both be screwed.
several painstaking seconds pass without a word.
he tries his bonds, still trapped. he tries to twist, but only encounters what feels like another hole in the ship's hull. the freezing water beyond the ocean's thermocline must finally be flooding up into the hold, and, in his hysteria, he thinks unhelpfully of the titanic. jonas is certain that if the sinking doesn't kill them then hypothermia will; the temperature doesn't stop dropping at a few degrees, it takes a sharp plunge until he can no longer bear to keep still. ice burns at the raw skin of his throat, forcing him to kick out blindly at anything that'll get him free until a sudden and agonizing strike does it for him.)
I-Is itβ
(hands grab at him, and noctis doesn't need to expend much effort to get jonas out of the water. he may stagger against the storage wall with the other restless and take down several empty barrels that border it, but he rises fast to escape the next wave that would've overtaken his face.)
I'm out. Jesus, I can't believe it. I didn't think anyone wouldβ (his fingers scrape into the wet fabric of noctis' shirt, taking liberal amounts into tight fists. panicked, jonas is unable to calm down when his body shakes at the experience, huffing heavily over his shoulder.) Thank you. Thank you, thank you.
no subject
Careful, (jonas warns, hacking on seawater, but he doesn't criticize noctis' fall for his own sake despite being momentarily submerged. if noctis hits his head or hurts himself, they'll both be screwed.
several painstaking seconds pass without a word.
he tries his bonds, still trapped. he tries to twist, but only encounters what feels like another hole in the ship's hull. the freezing water beyond the ocean's thermocline must finally be flooding up into the hold, and, in his hysteria, he thinks unhelpfully of the titanic. jonas is certain that if the sinking doesn't kill them then hypothermia will; the temperature doesn't stop dropping at a few degrees, it takes a sharp plunge until he can no longer bear to keep still. ice burns at the raw skin of his throat, forcing him to kick out blindly at anything that'll get him free until a sudden and agonizing strike does it for him.)
I-Is itβ
(hands grab at him, and noctis doesn't need to expend much effort to get jonas out of the water. he may stagger against the storage wall with the other restless and take down several empty barrels that border it, but he rises fast to escape the next wave that would've overtaken his face.)
I'm out. Jesus, I can't believe it. I didn't think anyone wouldβ (his fingers scrape into the wet fabric of noctis' shirt, taking liberal amounts into tight fists. panicked, jonas is unable to calm down when his body shakes at the experience, huffing heavily over his shoulder.) Thank you. Thank you, thank you.