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The afternoon shower wakes him from a light doze, drumming on the deck above the bunk. He hears the gurgle of the scuppers and a faint creak as the ship tugs gently at her anchor chain in the breeze. He listens drowsily as the miniature tempest blows itself out and silence falls once more. So unlike the fogs and misty rains of England. Almost, for a moment, he longs for home; dreams of a return.
Just then the warm weight against his side stirs, lips brushing his neck as Jack mutters in his sleep.
Then again, James thinks, perhaps not.
December 18 2006, 18:21:13 UTC 5 years ago
December 19 2006, 23:45:53 UTC 5 years ago
January 18 2007, 16:38:40 UTC 5 years ago
January 19 2007, 07:06:26 UTC 5 years ago
(Make you shudder? *monkey head scratch* Bzuh?)
January 19 2007, 17:13:54 UTC 5 years ago