A little post-maelstrom angst, a drabble and a half for the 'Friends' prompt at
blackpearlsails...
~ After the Storm ~
She enters without knocking. Cornered, he swears as she closes the door. “What now, Mrs. Turner?”
She hesitates.
Almost he’d escaped this. It’s nearly time, the sea is calm, the sun is shining outside. The longboat’s being readied. Her bridegroom is waiting.
“I… I had hoped-“
“For what? My blessing, perhaps?”
“Something of the sort,” she admits. “And that we could part friends.”
“Friends? We were never friends.”
Oh, lord. Sang-froid trumped by a 'Mrs.'
On cue, her lips curve, wistful, pitying. She raises a hand, lets it fall, and says one word: “Always.”
He snatches up his hat. Heads for the door, saying, “The cabin’s yours, my liege. No doubt you’ll like to clean up before your assignation.”
As he blows past, there’s a moment’s satisfaction at the flush mounting her cheeks, but once he shuts her in, he pauses in the shadows, teeth set, heart thudding.
Always.
~.~