Work Text:
Three little words that tilt the world on its side.
It is a slip, an accident, a joke. An attempt to rouse a laugh, the easy way he does, as they draw out their final farewell. To breathe life into the empty husk of a smile she’s managed today, too dead to reach her eyes.
The soldier waits, every faltering moment tripping over the next, for the grin to reveal itself, for the roguish quip that does not come. He does not mean it, she thinks, a certainty that whittles away to a plea with the sky's evening blush.
Nothing needs to change tonight, there is still time to take it back. Layer over this thing, bruised for all its beauty, with safe little lies and try to pretend they don't feel its ache.
Dusk yawns across the harbor, shadows stretching, water silvering in the rising moon, and the twilight gleam of his eyes reaches for hers one last time.
There is glass between their touch.
You don't mean it.
She watches until the dark swallows the pirate whole, and he is gone.
He doesn’t take it back.
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(Throwing in the less angsty ending for the Anon who requested the prompt): 😉
Three little words that tilt the world on its side.
It is a slip, an accident, a joke. An attempt to rouse a laugh, the easy way he does, as they draw out their final farewell. To breathe life into the empty husk of a smile she’s managed today, too dead to reach her eyes.
The soldier waits, every faltering moment tripping over the next, for the grin to reveal itself, for the roguish quip that does not come. He does not mean it, she thinks, a certainty that whittles away to a plea with the sky's evening blush.
Nothing needs to change tonight, there is still time to take it back. Layer over this thing, bruised for all its beauty, with safe little lies and try to pretend they don’t feel its ache.
Dusk yawns across the harbor, shadows stretching, water silvering in the rising moon, and the twilight gleam of the pirate's eyes touches hers again, spreads warmth across her skin.
It pools inside her chest.
Three little words that tilt the world on its side, and she is slipping, in the air, falling apart in his arms.
Don't take it back.
Tomorrow it can be a lie.