❝ French Perfume ❞ - FrUk/UkFr Pirate Novella

Chapter 13

Francis let his anger cloud his judgement. He never fought anyone with swords before and yet, he was fighting a world class pirate? The truth was, after the pirate had acted out the death of his loved one, he couldn't stand living anymore. 

He wanted someone to pay for this and it was going to be this silent, unnamed pirate. Francis charged forward, his sword pointing towards the male and the pirate took a stance, his feet felt lightweight and fast. The unnamed pirate took two shots, one towards Francis' cheek, which this time had cut the other cheek and towards Francis' clothing, which Francis spun and took it in the back instead of out on his chest.

Francis lost his footing and landed backwards into a bucket, the pirate looked like they were ready to laugh, their stance tall and proud, their thoughts probably thinking: this poser can't beat me. 

Francis gripped at the floor, his purple eyes glaring down as his body lifted up in anger, his eyes dark and narrowed. He was done. He didn't want to live anymore after his best friend had died and charged towards the pirate, who was taken off guard. 

"I know your name," Francis shouted, his fury uncontrollable like fire. Francis charged and pinned the male against a railing, the sword dropping from his surprised hand.

"Tell me why you killed him, kidnapped him, did something to him — !" Francis shouted, tears falling from his eyes once more. His grip loosened on the pirate as his lip quivered. "Why Antonio… why…?" 

The pirate took this to his advantage. He low-kicked Francis on the ground, his feet collapsing from underneath him. Pain sizzled through his whole body as he landed once more on the deck. This time, however, the pirate jumped on Francis, pinning him with his leg and held an iron-tight grip on Francis by his white jabot necktie. The pirate began to pull on it to the point it could've suffocated Francis. Francis placed his gloved hands over the pirate's gloved hands. 

"Do it," Francis demanded. The pirate's grip had intensified to the point that Francis was gasping for air. This would be the end for him. He closed his eyes as his breathing became smaller and smaller. He accepted his fate as a singular tear streamed down.

And then, his head thunked on the deck and his lungs instantly gasped for air. He glanced up to see the pirate towering over him, the light of the moon shining down on Francis; however, none of the pirate wearing red was exposed. 

The pirate reached down and grabbed his sword, making motions for Francis to do the same and fight him once more. The pirate kicked Francis' sword to him and crossed his arms, waiting. 

Why didn't he just kill me there ? Did I offend him by being choked or something?? Maybe he didn’t dig that kinky stuff — 

"So pirate, you're a silent kind of guy aye~" Francis flirted, the pirate didn't shift or do anything, he stayed still and waited for Francis to get off of his butt and up in a fighting stance. 

Worth a shot.

"For your interview Antonio, you're quite the cold, calculating type. Was playing dumb how you tricked Arthur? You aren't fooling me Antonio."  

No answer. 

Francis stood up and grabbed his sword from off the ground and prepared to fight this scallywag. If he were to die, he would join Arthur in the afterlife, but if he would slay this pirate, he could save a lot more lives and prove to the angry Brit that this pirate did exist.

"They say you're just a ghost story and a legend, but here you stand."

Francis charged at the male, this time copying the pirate's steps and trying to prove that he was the better swordsman.