a pirate's life ➸ potc (1)

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞

I awoke to persistent knocking on my door. Daylight streamed into the tiny room that was my cabin, and my back ached a little from falling asleep in a rather uncomfortable position. Dragging myself from my bed, I opened the door to find Jack stood at the other side, staring down at his curious compass. He was frowning at it, and then slammed it shut angrily.

"Is it broken?" I asked curiously, making him jump. I seemed to have that effect on him a lot, I noted.

"No, it's not broken," he informed me with a clearly forced smile. "Not broken at all..."

"Why are you at my door, Jack?" I questioned bluntly, impatience laced in my tone. He looked a little lost and confused for a moment, but then he snapped back to reality.

"I couldn't sleep last night," the captain admitted. "And young Mr. Turner is still asleep. Care to join me at the helm?"

A small smile forced its way onto my lips. I nodded, following him up to the helm. From the look of the sky, it couldn't be too far into the morning. The sun was dozing lazily above the sea, creating an orange glow over it. My breath caught. Sunrises were absolutely beautiful.

"Like what you see?" Jack's smooth voice interrupted my thoughts. I whipped my head around to face him and smiled. In more ways than one, I agreed silently.

"I love the sunrise," I found myself telling him. "I think it's the most beautiful part of the day. Usually I'm not awake early enough to see it, but when I do it always takes my breath away."

I felt a warm arm collapse around my shoulders as I gazed out at it - the majestic ocean and all her many tales. Again, heat rose to my cheeks and butterflies flew around my stomach. Uncontrollably, I turned my head so I was looking up at Jack, studying his handsome face. His sloping nose, his beautiful dark eyes, the perfectly framed lips, which just looked so kissable in this light...

Slowly, he turned his own head so our faces were barely inches apart, the sunrise setting a gorgeous aura around us. My eyes dropped to his lips again, and I noticed that his eyes dropped to mine. I knew I had to do it; to see what they felt like, to know what they tasted like...

"Jack!" Will's familiar voice cut through our moment like a knife. My head bowed as Jack moved away from me, his arm retracting from my shoulders. I suddenly felt cold without his touch. Jack walked over to where Will was stood, and I followed moments after.

Gibbs was stood at the dock, a fairly long line of rather dirty pirates in front of him. Unsurprisingly, he had quite a proud look on his face.

"Feast your eyes, Captain," Gibbs said excitedly as soon as Jack stepped foot on the dock. "All of them, faithful hands before the mast, every man worth his salt. And crazy to boot."

"So this is your able-bodied crew?" Will scoffed sarcastically, and I nudged him in the ribs hard.

As if trying to prove Will wrong, Jack stopped in front of an elderly sailor with a white beard and a beautiful blue and yellow parrot perched on his left shoulder. "You, sailor!"

"Cotton, sir," Gibbs corrected.

"Mr. Cotton..." Jack continued. "Do you have the courage and fortitude to follow orders and stay true in the face of danger and almost certain death?"

The sailor stayed abnormally silent, but made pleading looks towards Mr. Gibbs.

"Mr. Cotton! Answer man!" Jack demanded sharply.

"He's a mute, sir," Gibbs interjected helpfully. "Poor devil had his tongue cut out, so he trained the parrot to talk for 'im. No one's yet figured how."