Pirate!England x Gifted!Reader Part 2

Your POV

    Judging from the poor light seeping into the small room you currently resided in, you guessed it was near dusk. Your scar decorated back leaned heavily on the wall full of sharp splinters, spearing the thin clothes you wore. Your outfit consisted of an old, tattered white shirt and a pair of brown shorts that the cook had sneaked you.

    Despite this being a rough-and-tough pirate ship, not everyone here acted brutal. The cook was one example. In actuality, the cook was rather fond of you.

    You closed your eyes and listened intently to the sounds above your head. The crew was partying. And by partying, I mean getting drunk, talking and laughing boisterously, and dancing.

    You grimaced, picturing the burly men with beer everywhere. You almost felt sorry that they were going to be beat tomorrow.

    You didn’t know how far the other ship was by now, the elusive “time” had escaped your grasp once again, but you hoped it wasn’t too far away. You silently prayed that the other ship would have a kinder crew, but with the luck you were having, you doubted it.

    You opened your sparkling (e/c) eyes. They flashed even in the low light that surrounded you. You brought your gaze to the floor in which your legs were spread out upon. Some would say it was unladylike but you didn’t care. You absentmindedly began to trace the grain of the wood with the tip of your index finger. Nothing to do now but wait…

Captain Kirkland’s POV

    The strong scent of the salty ocean waters below always seems to calm me. Even when you know the next day you’d be the one to lead 20+ (I’m very bad at estimating ) men into battle against (most likely) a bloodthirsty crew. I strolled over to the edge of my ship and leaned over the edge. The reflection of the stars on the ocean surface stared back at me, as well as my own reflection. My messy blonde hair seemed to have a silvery glow in the moonlight.

    If you haven’t already guessed, it’s night time. I couldn’t sleep, like most of the time before a battle. But something is different about this time. I can sense it in my gut (or heart, if you want it to be romantic).

    A heavy sigh pushed itself past my lips. What will become of tomorrow…?