A Pirate's Love

Adrenaline

Jake's POV:

I hopped speedily down the steps, my mind set on reaching Elenor's quarters. Reaching the last step, my body collided with another small one, snapping my train of thought. I reached down and grasped small shoulders, gently pushing them from me to reveal a bewildered Elenor. "Elenor," I breathed out, relieved to see her safe. Her cheeks and ears a light rosy pink, I studied her face, framed by wavy, dampened locks.

"Captain Blacksmoke," she greeted quietly, her eyes looking up at me bashfully. I briefly glanced at her attire and let her go, noticing the cold wetness from her soaked clothes linger on my fingertips. Her skin looked soft and glistening, I couldn't stop myself from staring, wanting nothing but to reach out and touch her again to prove that she was real. "Sam– his fever has broken," she started, "he needs something to eat and drink. I was just on my way–"

"I'll send someone to tend to him," I interrupted her, refusing that she would be caring for someone else in her condition.

"I was thinking– well I was hoping," she persisted, "That I would be able to care for him now that he is not contagious." I stared at her in admiration. Of course she would put someone's needs before her own.

"That is out of the question," I said, "You are soaked. Come, let's get you dry clothes," I took her small hand in mine and guided her to my quarters. Slightly dazed as I opened and closed the door behind us, all I could think about was the way her hand felt in mine. I quietly walked to the side of my bed, deep in thought, and pulled out a few changes of clothes, setting them on top of the bed. I peeled off the wet shirt from my body and took up a dry one. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Elenor turn and advert her gaze. No, I wanted her to look at me. I walked towards her and stood in front of her, our proximity close. She bashfully looked up at me, a slight glaze over her eyes, her cheeks softly blushing. I pulled the shirt over my head, smiling to myself. "Are you okay?" I asked.

"What?" She blinked up at me, not processing what I said. I tried to hold back the smirk that was trying to escape my lips.

"Are you okay?" I repeated, "The storm– I was afraid you had trouble reaching your quarters."

"Oh–" she stammered, snapping out of her distraction, "Yes, I am alright. I did have trouble getting down, but I made it eventually," she paused, "The storm– are they always that violent?" I let out a chuckle, not able to hold it back any longer.

"Believe it or not, that was a much milder storm than most we have faced," I explained, recalling more violent storms from the past. I watched as her eyes widened in fear and shock. "Aye, it's true," I reassured. She stared at me blankly, her wet clothes gripping her body. I gestured to the dry clothes on the bed, "You may choose whichever you prefer," I invited. She strode over and examined my clothes on the bed, her fingers gently feeling the different fabrics. I watched her expression as she did so, making note of which ones she preferred over others. My heart jumped as she took up my shirt that laced up the front, one of my favorites as well, and a brown pair of trousers. I picked up a different pair of trousers, what I could tell was her second choice. She looked up at me, a small spark in her eye. I quickly turned away and unbuckled my belt, then internally cursed at my soaked boots, pulling them off. I could hear her shuffle from behind me and I quickly dropped my trousers to the floor, stepped out of them, then pulled the dry ones up to my hips, forgetting my belt.

"I always heard stories of raging storms and violent waves; shipwrecks and survival," she started, making me think that was the cue to let me know she had finished changing. I turned around, only to see her lifting up her shirt. The sight hit my eyes like a wave unexpectedly hitting the side of a ship. I adverted my eyes, but glanced back up, unable to reject and ignore her beauty. She gracefully lifted the shirt over her head, her damp locks falling on her bare shoulders. The sight of her bare back, smooth and silky like porcelain, caused my heart to beat faster. She bent down and picked up the dry shirt, small dimples peeking out from the band of the trousers. "but I never knew the extremity of it until I experienced it," she continued, slipping on the shirt, hiding her skin. I gulped and rubbed my forehead, trying to control myself. God, she was dangerous. She pulled her hair from under the shirt and placed it on her shoulders again, then laced up the front. "And to think that they are more powerful than the one I experienced–" she stopped, mid sentence, and quickly turned around, her eyes wide. My chest started ramming harder at her gaze. "How long have you been watching?" she asked, pulling me in closer with her words.