Chapter Text
Ed sat on Stede’s bed with tears running down his face. He had been crying for hours and wasn’t going to be able to stop anytime soon. Everything reminded him of Stede. It didn’t help that he was on Stede’s boat with Stede’s crew and wearing Stede’s robe. And when he closed his eyes to try to pretend that he was somewhere else, he saw Stede.
“I gave up everything for you, you fucking dick.” He muttered to himself and then took a swig from the bottle he was holding.
He rubbed the robe with his fingers and then held the fabric to his face. Stede’s smell was already fading from it.
He was torn between wanting to preserve his memories of Stede and wanting to erase him from his memory completely.
But the memories kept flooding in no matter how hard he tried to think about anything else. His brain kept torturing him with a montage of his happiest moments with Stede. And all these moments kept playing in his mind over and over. He couldn’t stop hearing Stede’s laugh or seeing Stede’s face after they had kissed. He tried to feel Stede’s lips against his, but the sensation was already fading from his memory.
He saw Stede sitting at the helm of the ship, watching the sunset. He sat down next to him. Their legs were touching slightly and neither of them moved away.
They sat in silence for a while. Ed tried to think of something to say but every time he looked at Stede glowing in the sunset he couldn’t think at all.
“Doesn’t that sunset just take your breath away?” Stede finally broke the silence.
Ed looked at him and smiled. “Yeah, it does.”
“You know, today was the best day I’ve had in a while.”
“Why? Nothing happened today, we just sat around and played some games with the crew.”
“Exactly! Wasn’t it great?”
Ed smiled at Stede’s ability to get excited over the most mundane things. “I guess it was.”
Stede put his hands behind him and leaned back. He accidentally placed his hand on Ed’s. Ed’s heart raced while Stede just kept watching the colorful sky, oblivious to how he made Ed feel.
Ed had wanted to go to Stede’s room so badly that night. He actually went to his door and lifted his hand up to knock but stopped himself. He didn’t even know if Stede was into men. He was probably just being friendly, he told himself. So he went to his own room.
Well, he was in Stede’s bed now. But he’ll never see Stede again. He let out the sobs he’d been trying to stifle.
What was the point of anything that had happened in the past month if it was just going to end with Stede abandoning him? He felt so used and heartbroken. He had never felt so awful before. This is why he became a dread pirate in the first place, so he could have a heart of steel and not get it broken by stupid men. And yet here he was, a mess over some guy he hadn’t even known for long. What was wrong with him?
He had never been in love before, and had never felt emotional pain like this before. Physical pain he was used to, but this was a whole other level of anguish.
“Is this really what love is? This fucking sucks,” he said to himself.
He downed the rest of the bottle and threw it to the floor where it shattered into tiny pieces.
When he looked at the pieces, the painting of the lighthouse caught his eye. He looked at it in fury. He got up and took it off the shelf. He held it with shaking hands and then threw it to the ground where the frame shattered. He went over to the bookshelves and started throwing books all around in a fit of rage. When all the books were on the ground he looked at them, panting. He stepped on them on his way back to the bed, and something caught his eye. In front of the bed was a loose paper. It was folded in half and must have fallen out of one of the books.
Ed picked it up, opened it and gasped.
It was a drawing of what looked like… him.
It wasn’t perfect, but whoever drew it really captured his eyes and lips. Of course the long hair and beard was what told him it was indeed a picture of him. Then he noticed the signature at the bottom.
It was the same signature that he signed under to pledge loyalty to the king. Stede’s.
Stede had drawn a picture of him at some point. He ran his fingers over the paper and fell to his knees. He ended up crying in a fetal position, laying on top of the books and hugging the drawing to his chest.
“Why?” was all he could manage to choke out. “Why?”