A Pirate's Crush

2. Worrying Myself Sick... Literally

I don't look great, but I'm no hag. Thank God. I don't get gussied up often, so I'm not great at doing it myself. Usually, the most I do is brush my hair and tie it in a ponytail. I might wear foundation, but rarely do I do anything else unless it's a special occasion. Even then, I usually get my friends to help. That said, I think I did alright by myself today. I've seen worse mascara and eyeliner. The foundation was doing its job of hiding the bags under my eyes and making my cheeks look smooth. My face looked the most unscathed from my stress. My hair on the other hand... not so much. The ends of my ponytail looked dry and clumped after being white-knuckled by my clammy hands. Still, the rest of my hair didn't look awful, albeit not as soft and smooth as when I left.

But it doesn't matter what I think. What will he think? After all, his last secretary was Dunkerque . I can't compare to her. Or... any of my friends, for that matter...

"... argh!!! Stop!!!" I grunted, clenching my fists.

Stop worrying so much! The commander ain't that shallow! If I'm confident, my looks won't matter.

Besides, my appearance ain't what I should be worried about when my head feels like fuzz... and my eyelids feel like weights.

Ugh... I'm so tired. I can't believe I did this to myself. But... I'll be fine. Once I start working, I'm sure I'll get a second wind. All I gotta do is stay awake until then. No matter how... heavy my eyelids... are. What am I even worried about? It's... just the commander, right? Just the... commander... and I... alone...

...

...

*GASP*

Crap!

I flinched violently.

Merde ... did I nod off? Probably because I've been standing still. I gotta keep moving. C'mon, Jean! Stay awake!

I gave my cheek some light slaps to try and jolt me—forgetting I had makeup on—and kept pacing. Although, not as briskly. I barely had the energy to lift my legs adequately, so my feet were dragging. My brain was too foggy to register anything I was looking at, so I was riding blind.

I clenched my fists, fighting the weight of my eyelids. They were begging... no... demanding to close.

Walk faster. It'll help if I walk fas—!

BUMP

" Ow! God... fucking damn it!"

My shin struck the solid wood of a lurking coffee table. The pain clawed at my leg, making me curse like a sailor.

For some reason, I kept walking. Or rather... shambling. The pain was so intense that I was worse at walking than before.

I passed by the windows again and glanced outside. The sky was bluer than before. The sliver of orange light had grown to a softer, milkier halo.

Hah... it looks... pretty...

...

...

"...h-huh— AUGH!!! SHIT!!!"

As if kicked in the back, my body careened forward. I had nodded off again, only this time it was mid-step, and I was thrown off balance.

The soles of my boots clacked with ringing force as my feet desparately tried to stabilize. In my blind panic, my arms sprawled, trying to find anything sturdy to grab onto.

I stumbled until my hands finally landed on something solid. Some piece of furniture? Whatever it was, it let me regain my balance.

I stood there for a moment, breathing hard.