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"Good morning, Martyn."
It was the sea air again. Martyn got a lung full of it before he was hacking and coughing. No matter how much he breathed it in, he never got used to it. Maybe he never let himself get accustomed, because if he did, it would mean admitting defeat.
"How are you today?" Martyn opened his eyes to a familiar face. Scott's head was tilted as he leaned over Martyn. "Slept in a while, I see."
"You could say that," Martyn sat up, pulling the covers off of himself. He slept in the shade outside the isles so the heat wouldn't hit too hard. It was fine in the morning but the moment it hit noon he was done for. Scott never seemed to have a problem with it, though. He would just chug merrily along while Martyn sweat buckets behind him. "And you've been up bright and early."
Scott usually woke up long after Martyn, since he went to bed so much later. He enjoyed looking at the stars, he had said once. Martyn thought all that was stupid. What was so good about a view they could never reach? It wasn't like they were ever leaving the island.
"Mhm! I've been putting some more sand in your hourglass." Scott stepped away from him and over to his chests, where he grabbed some silks. Martyn didn't know where he got those from, but he liked to drape the translucent ones on himself sometimes. And then sometimes he would put them on Martyn, too.
"I thought I told you not to touch that," Martyn grumbled. He looked at it. There was barely any sand on the top half anymore. Only the red layer was left, and he could see the sand faintly trickling down.
Then Scott was blocking his view. "What's so good about that old thing? It hasn't gone anywhere, silly!"
"I built it," Martyn said simply. "I like to see what I've built. The cabin is yours, the hourglass is mine."
"The cabin is ours," Scott lengthened the word. "So is the hourglass."
"No it's not." Martyn said firmly. Sure, he lived in the cabin, and he did consider it his as well, but the hourglass had never belonged to Scott and never would. They seemed incompatible somehow. If Scott was a calm lake, than the hourglass was a fast river.
Scott draped one of the lavender silks over his arms. "Suit yourself. Feel like trying to preserve coral with me today?"
"Nah, I think I'll go dolphin watching again," Martyn got fully out of bed and began to put on his day clothes. He liked to look out at the ocean and imagine what was beyond it. Was there land across the sea of waves, or was there all this was? Martyn had a feeling there was more. He could remember… no he couldn't. But he knew there was something he had forgotten. A person. Several people, maybe.
His head hurt.
"But you go dolphin watching every day!" Scott whined. "Please? For me?"
Martyn thought about it. "Okay then. For you."
Scott had harvested the coral easily. His hands and teeth and scales were perfectly suited to the ocean in a way Martyn never had been. He had always adapted so fast.
As they worked to suspend the coral in a bubble of water, Martyn couldn't help but feel sad. Coral was meant for the ocean, to feel the currents, to age properly, not be suspended in time.
Scott cheered when they finally got it to work, and Martyn couldn't help but feel happy on his behalf. Well, as happy as he could be here.
Then he went back out to look at the ocean.
"It hasn't changed since you last looked at it." Scott was leaning against Martyn's side now, also looking out at the waves. "And there still aren't any dolphins."
"You said there would be," Martyn reminded him. Besides, by Scott's logic, why should Martyn care about him? It's not like he ever changed.
"Well, I don't know everything."
"Of course you don't." Martyn got up and went to the hourglass. The glass was flimsy as usual, he could lean on it, but tried not to. Every time fingerprints smudged it he could get a little… testy.
"Martyn?" Scott asked, a hint of concern in his voice. "Is everything alright?"
Martyn was shaking now. He didn't know what was coming over him. Only that whatever it was was crashing into him like a wave, too big to ignore. He pounded his fists on the hourglass and felt it crack.
Sand was spilling everywhere. Good. There had been too much in there anyway. Martyn's hands were screaming with pain as little shards cut his fingers and dug deep into the skin, but he didn't care. He hit it again. "Martyn!" Scott screamed, and tried to grab him.
Martyn grabbed a big glass shard and turned around. Scott was covered in sand and knocked to the ground, and was looking up at him with confusion.
Martyn sunk the glass shard into his shoulder. "Let me out of here!"
Again. The sky had gone gray. "I want to go home!"
Into his eye this time. Red blood on the red sand. "Why won't you just die?"
"Who am I?" One to the chest.
"You're a monster." Another to the chest.
And Scott looked up at Martyn with his remaining eye, amused as ever. "Stop!" Martyn screamed, feeling like his vocal chords were going to rip from the force. "Smiling!"
Then the world glitched. Martyn felt a sensation, like he was being pulled down. He could still feel Scott's blood on him, though he couldn't see anything. But even that sensation stopped and he was left feeling like nobody. Nothing. Just another speck in the void.
He could stay like this. Stagnant. Nothing.
But he didn't want to. Martyn let himself come to.
He felt drowsy. Heavy. And the smell of sea air wasn't helping.
"Good morning, Martyn."