Page 66 of Ruining His Smirk

“Holy shit,” I whispered.

“They are so small but so important,” Nate murmured. “Krill support almost everything here. Fish, penguins, seals, whales. An animal only a few centimeters long holds up most of the Antarctic food web.”

The krill continued falling around us, thousands upon thousands slipping into the black. But I was no longer watching them. Nate’s whole face was transformed by love as he looked up like a small child standing under bright stars.

I wondered what he was like as a boy. Never had I felt the desire to meet someone in their childhood. But him, I did. Would we have become friends? Fought but then dressed as knights and run around chasing each other with our homemade capes flowing behind us? I felt such sadness that I would never know that version of him. Was this why people cautioned against falling in love? Because this shit hurt, man. And it was stupid as all hell.

It was back to dark water and the soft, regular pings of Nate’s instruments. The krill had passed. We sat pressed close together, our thighs touching along the narrow seat.

Nate switched on the microphone for the next scheduled check-in.

“Passing one hundred meters. Life support holding. Internal pressure stable. Audio and visual systems clear. Descent rate remains steady.”

The communications officer acknowledged him through a brief crackle of static. Nate checked the glowing readouts surrounding us, confirmed another figure, then switched themicrophone off again. He also flicked off some other buttons, and several panels stopped glowing.

Silence returned. The sphere itself was so dark now that I couldn’t see his body. I could feel him more than I could see him. Somehow the darkness made me more desperate for him. I had the overwhelming urge to reach around his waist, lift him, and settle him across my lap, where I could hold him properly instead of trying to fit everything I felt into the small point of contact between our hands.

I did not push my luck. At least he was still letting me hold his hand.

Suddenly a long, low moan rolled through the cabin. Every muscle in my body locked.

The sound seemed to rise from somewhere far beneath us, deep and drawn out, carrying through the darkness like something enormous calling from the bottom of the world.

It faded.

Then it came again.

A mournful note stretched through the water, so deep I could almost feel it moving through my chest. Another answered from somewhere beyond the lights.

“What the ever-loving fuck is that, Nate?”

He started laughing. I heard it more than I saw it.

I whipped my head around. “No, I’m serious. I’m damn near losing my mind here.”

That only made him laugh harder.

“Tell me that ain’t some kind of kraken coming up out of the dark.”

He bent forward trying to catch his breath, his whole body shaking with laughter. I was torn between terror and joy at seeing him laugh again. Meanwhile, something prehistoric was apparently mourning our imminent deaths outside.

Nate finally managed to speak between laughing gasps. “Humpbacks! Ah… those are the sounds of the underwater world.”

“Oh.”

He wiped beneath one eye. “You’ve probably heard recordings before, but it’s entirely different when you’re beneath the surface with them.”

“Jesus.”

He giggled. Another low note passed through the cabin, followed by a distant answer.

“The males sing,” Nate continued. “Their songs can travel for miles through the ocean.”

The sound came again, rising and falling through the darkness. I listened with morbid fascination.

“Not the females?” I asked quietly.

“Females don’t sing but they do vocalize. That could be Lady and Junior calling back and forth while they play. He’s too young to sing yet, but calves have plenty to say,” Nate whispered back.