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The docks were quiet, the only sound the water against the posts and over the rocks below. It was the perfect spot to get away from...everything. Your arms around your stomach, you sat down on a crate at the edge of the docks, just watching the moon shine across the water.
You needed a break. Jabs, stupid remarks, you were just done with people right now. You couldn't help but shiver at the brisk wind blowing inland.
Footsteps approaching made you stiffen, but you relaxed a moment later as a familiar white jacket with green trim sat next to you. Wiping a hand over your eyes, you mumbled, "Not in the mood, Smoker."
"Tch, thought I'd find you here," he said, his voice low and rumbling, sounding as if he knew exactly where to find you. He always did.
"Just leave me alone. I don't want to talk to anyone." You sat with your legs against your chest now, arms around your knees.
"Too bad." Movement, then his jacket settled across your shoulders; warm, carrying the faint bite of cigar smoke under the clean spice of his cologne. "I'm not here to talk. Not unless you want me to."
That was one thing you loved about him - he never pried. He just sat there, his white hair turned silver in the moon, acting as if the cold wind didn't bother him despite being shirtless, the smoke from his cigars curling around you.
Gradually, the anger faded, being replaced by something heavier but calmer. You let out a quiet sigh.
"They're idiots," he said in a flat tone, making you turn. "And you don't owe them a damn thing."
You furrowed your brow, but your chest loosened at his words. "You don't even know what they said."
He shrugged. "Don't need to." His gaze turned from the dark water to yours. "But I know you." He laid his arm across your shoulders, letting you lean against his side.
Silence stretched between you. The tension slowly drained from your shoulders.
Smoker glanced at you, mouth twitching into something like an almost-smile. "You ever been down to that place down on Windward Street? Music plays every weekend. They open to floor for slow sets."
It took you a moment to realize what he was asking. Blinking, you looked at him. "Are you...asking me to dance?"
“Inviting you to get off this pier, for starters.” His eyes caught the lamplight, a rare spark in their steel-gray depths. “The dancing’s optional. But if you say yes, I’ll show you I’m damn good at it.”
You wiped your eyes and huffed out a laugh, the first of the night. “Alright, Captain. Lead the way.”
He held out his hand, helping you up.
You reached up and planted a kiss on his cheek, smiling at the faint pink that appeared. "Thanks."