Lydia And The Rogue

cinq

          "I NEEDN'T PRETEND TO you" She murmured; allowing herself the pleasure of running her fingers down his rough hair that settled in a tie towards the middle. "I had doubts at first but this only strengthened them. With God's most gracious help, I've realized that the tide, which is adequate, rolls in and out just as our troubles do. If we worry on one simple wave, thats never going to reappear in our life again, life would be dwelled on the stupidest of things."

          His eyes smouldered and glazed over with frosty tears she knew he would not shed.

          In the past fifteen or so minutes she'd spent with William, she came to with all of her problems and well, for lack of a proper word, hesitations. Mouette had came to realize there was a difference between William and Claremont. The incredulities she could not prepare herself for would have to wait, momentarily, but she realized; the hadn't moments of her life would be in the past, if she chose to bide and cleave to the unimportant petty things, life would be such a despair. She acquired this possibility that people rarely allow, a chance to start anew! Nobody would know, pin-pointedly so, anyways, that she was sheltered her entire life. She wouldn't be treated as a child but a woman, with plenty of suitors. In which William and Claremont were not.

          Claremont was merely someone who was helping her with a rich helping of her father's indefinite wealth. She smiled to herself. Would he have done it without a penny laying across the table? Mayhap not. And whereas William was a bystander, those incredulous characters in books you wish would not appear anymore to take time away from moments held between the protagonist and perhaps the antagonist, however interesting or however much the protagonist enjoyed such character's well being. And if her theory was correct, she believed she'd have a lot of "Williams" in her life. Just maybe not as handsome.

          "When did you become so brilliant after just an hour?" He spoke softly.

          "May I be so bold as to offer you some water? You look parched." Moments ago her vice was to please the captain into letting her join Will, but after seeing how frail the usually adequate male was, her worrisome thoughts only collected further. You can dwell on certain grieving points however much you want, but to dwell on pointless things was not to be condoned in. William had plenty of points and... lumps, now that she thought of it. He was so very different from the Captain, and while she didn't find him all that attractive, she supposed some lady out there would. His brilliant green eyes shined like floating emeralds, guiding you to a safe haven. Or, at least, she hoped it was to be a safe haven. You could never trust someone who worked on a ship and asked of ladies to call them by their first name, however gorgeous it might be!

          "I could see to it that I have a drink, though I'm leaning towards a libation." Mouette's mouth simpered. Her mind went to the cabinet were the apricot oil was to be had, and, more importantly towards this case, the swelling amounts of fine, dark brown alcoholic refreshments.

          "There shall be no downing of fermented drinks, understood? Unless the doctor subscribes it. Has he?" William stayed silent. "I didn't think he would endorse it. The Crew, if I'm not mistaken, carries plenty of alcohol, you know. Ale and such. I suppose when you're well you could bargain some, though I'm sure they'd be indebted to you."

          "Obligated towards me, why on Heaven would you think so?" He watched as her gentle, swell body propped itself upwards and poured him a glass of clear water. William instantly licked his pale, pink lips.

          With a pulpy composition, she held the cup of water. "Do they not wish the Captain to be mortified in every way possible? He is not a heathen to them?" Her eyes darted toward the door.