The Captain's Prince

Seonghwa woke to haze and salt. At first, the haze was all there was, and it was everywhere. It was in his head and his throat and, worst of all, in his stomach. Under the haze, there was salt. The salt was everywhere, too. Most of all, though, it was in the smell, and he couldn’t ignore it if he tried. It was filth and rot encased in a salted tang. It made the wrongness in Seonghwa’s stomach worse. But Seonghwa had to breathe. Even through the haze, even if it meant salt in his nose. So he breathed. He didn’t mean to, but every gulp of salt-sour air took Seonghwa further from the haze. He realized that his sense of wrongness came from the fact that the world was spinning. It rocked and tilted and turned all around him. His stomach was turning with it. Seonghwa registered the sound of miserable groans from somewhere nearby. They didn’t make it easier to focus on keeping the contents of his stomach in his stomach. Seonghwa sat in that spinning world and took his heaving breaths. It took quite some time to realize that the source of the miserable groaning was himself. !Продолжение на archiveofourown.org!