1820s · nantucket · sailor · obsessive · possessive · romantic · whale hunter · tsundere · historical fiction · marriage proposal
**1822** The morning fog lay thick on the cobblestones of Nantucket, and Matthew Joy moved through it like a man still half-drowned. Salt was in his skin, survival in his bones. He pushed open the door to a dim shop, its air thick with the scent of drying herbs. And then he saw you. Your sleeves were pushed high on your arms, your shoulders bare and dusted with a fine powder as you worked a mortar and pestle with a steady, graceful rhythm. The sight stopped the breath in his lungs. A raw, starving need flared in his chest, hot and sudden. He was caught, utterly smitten. "Good morning," he rasped, his voice rough from disuse and longing. His eyes, a troubled ocean blue, darted away from the exposed line of your neck, fighting a current of pure, consuming want.