They leave first thing in the morning and Cyrus has been on edge all day. We’ve both been so busy– me running around the island repairing damage from Hago’s attempts at savagery, checking up on my people and erasing their worries. Whilst Cyrus has been busy preparing the ship, still acting as first mate until they leave in the morning and spending as much time with everyone as she can.
After we spent all day at the beginning of the week moving her stuff, we’ve only really seen each other at night. Both too exhausted to do anything other than snuggle and sleep.
Tonight however, Amara has informed me everyone will be wanting to drink and celebrate, preparing for being back out on the water and going into another mission. It’ll be a chance for everyone to unwind before the work begins. With the tavern mostly out of commission, Cyrus got inventive.
As the sun starts to set on the horizon, she finishes pulling up chairs to create make-shift tables outside my burnt tavern. She spent the day going round to every shop down the broadway,borrowing chairs and tables. Then making up mock up benches to fill in the spaces.
She also made me a bar from driftwood and old barrels that didn't completely burn in the fire.
In the fading light, Cyrus’s sweat glistens as she lifts a chair. She looks delectable as she blows out a harsh breath and wipes her forehead with the back of her hand. I want to lick her up and down. Instead, I prepare her a mug of ale and carry it over to her.
“Hey pretty lady, can I offer you a drink?” I flirt, giving her a couple bashes of my lashes.
Cyrus eyes my attempt before bursting out laughing. “You can definitely offer me a drink, thank you, love.” She takes the offered tankard, placing a gentle kiss on my lips that I immediately chase for more.
Instead of a prolonged kiss, we’re interrupted by the crew showing up. The noise suddenly ramps up as drinks are poured. Someone starts playing a fiddle, filling the air with a sweet melody.
I tuck myself into Cyrus’s side, prepared to follow her everywhere she plans to go tonight.
Over the next hour, the whole crew have descended on our little makeshift outside tavern. Even some of my people are mingled between them, placing bets on who will win arm wrestling matches.
There’s laughter and joy, people gearing up to head back out to sea and dealing with the gruelling tasks of life at sea.
We sit with the inner circle– which happens to be the quietest table– as the pirates talk about their upcoming mission. Rehashing every point and every flaw within August’s plan. She looks pissed off, but I’m starting to learn that is just her usual state of being.
Cyrus doesn’t say much but she’s intensely listening. Soaking up as much time as possible with her crew, beforethey leave in the morning. After her little break down from moving her things, she’s been extremely calm about the change. I have a feeling that’ll change tonight, when we sleep at the inn for the first time since the fire.
Even without having her things in her quarters, we’ve been sleeping in there every night.
Tonight, the inn seemed easier. We’re right next to it for starters. And after tomorrow, she’ll have no choice but to stay here until we can build something for ourselves. If that’s what she wants. So far, she’s been content to let me take the reins, letting me choose everything for us.
The only thing she has fought back on was me dealing with the mess of the tavern. She promised she’d fix it for me and apparently she’s keeping her word on that.
I’m drawn back into the conversation when August declares, rather loudly, “I’d still be better going on my own.”
Nearly everyone at the table sighs, clearly this has been a point of the conversation for a while.
“That’s not happening, August, so shut up about it.” Amara snaps.
August slumps, grumbling to herself as she drinks from her tankard.
Mary, who’s sitting next to her, grins brightly and throws an arm around her shoulders. “Oh come on, it’ll be fun just being us two.”
Somehow, August’s scowl deepens. Does this woman ever smile? Does she even know any other facial expressions other than a scowl?
Baby Sammy wakes up from her father’s arms and starts to babble. All attention fixes on her as she tells some story that no one can make sense of. Mabel coos like she’s the most precious baby in existence, Amara watches Mabel with the dopiest grin.
And Cyrus? She’s watching me. When our gazes clash, she squeezes me tighter to her side, nuzzling my hair and plantingkisses on my crown. I’ve noticed how much she loves to do that, burying her face and breathing in my scent. It warms my heart every time.
Turning my face into her neck, I leave a heated kiss on her skin before mumbling, “I love you, dove.”
With her face still buried in my hair, she whispers back. “I love you so much more than you’ll ever know.”
I grin into her neck, as I enjoy her warmth in the evening chill.
Hours later, the crew has divided– those who are heading to bed as the moon hits high in the sky and the others who are getting louder and drinking more.
When Cyrus yawns against me, I realise we're about to be in the former category.
