A handful of lit candles on my desk were the only source of light as I was leaning back in my chair, contemplating what to jut down in my journal. Up to this point I had not mentioned much of the false royal in my notes, only addressing him as part of the general inventory currently on my ship. I looked over the edge of my book, seeing the man in question pouring water onto his naked back with a large wooden ladle, the warm bathwater flowing down his tan skin. As he was facing away from me in the bath, he could not see what I was currently doing, which might have been for the best. I pressed the quill back onto the paper, along with the general captain’s notes, I had begun to sketch out the large tattoo that was covering Crow’s upper back. It was four pieces of lavender flowers, fanning across the span of his upper back and neck. A rather delicate and colourful design which did not particularly suit the otherwise troublesome man. Though the tattoos likely had a gentle and perhaps nostalgic meaning to him, the man before me did not seem like the kind to have flowers adorn his otherwise well-marked skin. A plethora of scars which were littering all across his body, small and big, like sporadic brush strokes across the expanse of his skin. All differing in design and age, like immortalised artists on the mosaic that was Crow’s body, none of which were likely alive to speak of it. I let my hand dot along the small stems I had drawn, in resemblance to the delicate petals of a lavender, when I could hear the sudden sloshing of water as Crow whipped around in the small bathtub.

- What are you doing?

- Writing in my journal.

- Really, I can't hear the quill against the paper.

- I was thinking of what to write next.

His eyes seemed sceptical, almost analytic in the way they moved across my face, trying to see through my lie. Whether he found it or decided to drop the subject, he slowly turned back around, wooden ladle in hand as he resumed his washing, now moving onto his hair. I watched the muscles of his back move and tense up as he scooped up water and poured it over his head, hair now wet and slicked back against his head. Droplets slowly making their way down over the lilac flowers adorning his slim neck.

- Why not just draw it if you're gonna stare that much? It will last longer.

- Quiet.

He hadn’t turned back around, not even halting in his movements as he spoke, but the words made me realise what I had been doing. I promptly looked back down on my journal, the ink of my carefully sketched lavender flowers still not dry enough to be enclosed between the pages of my journal.

- Are you done?

- Almost, I will tell you when you need to close your eyes. 

I didn’t bother responding, re-dipping the quill in my pot of ink before returning to writing down general observations from the day onto the rest of the page not occupied by my still drying sketch. It did not take long before I had finished up the brief summary of what chores I had accomplished during the day, and as I was corking the pot of ink I was once more greeted with the soft sound of his voice.

- Close your eyes.

I quickly made sure the small glass vial with ink was thoroughly secured before gently setting it down with a dull thud on my desk. I did not look up towards Crow before shutting my eyes, the darkness suddenly making every other sense so much more aware. I could hear the sound of the water rippling as he stepped out of the bath, small droplets of water hitting the wooden floor with delicate sporadic taps. The shuffling of bare feet crossing the room, and the bunching of fabric, following the gentle sound of clothes dragging across skin. 

Then, there was nothing. 

Suddenly it all went completely quiet, not a single sound could be heard except for my own steady deep breaths and beating of my own heart. I quickly let my eyes shoot open, only to be greeted by Crows face, two or so feet from my own. I jumped back slightly, surprised that I had not heard or noticed how close he had gotten to me, and how quick he must have moved to do so in just a few seconds.

- Your turn.

I did not know what to say, so I said nothing at all. Slowly getting out of my seat and walking around my desk towards the small bathtub. Before undressing completely my eyes catch the sight of the discarded chains laying on the floor, completely forgotten. I lean down and pick them up before turning back towards my desk. Crow had now perched himself onto my desk, hands splayed across the hard wood for support as he was leaning back slightly, eyes intent on the chain in my hand.

- I was hoping you had forgotten about it.

- Sorry to disappoint.

There was a small indignant huff before Crow extended his right leg out towards me, foot left completely still mid-air, muscles tense against the thin fabric of his trousers at the show of strength. 

- Get on with it then.

And so I did. I moved over close enough so I could take a hold of his calf, the skin still warm and slightly damp from the bath, before letting my hands reattach the chain, locking it around his ankle. Before releasing him I quickly looked up, meeting his eyes which had been watching me once again chain him to my desk. I held our shared gaze for a moment, wanting to see his expression clearly.

- Do not attempt anything reckless.

- I can not promise you anything.

- Don’t disobey me, I am the only reason you are still alive on this ship. 

At that a hint of a smile crossed his lips momentarily, before his eyes quickly travelled between my face and his leg, which was still tightly held in my grasp. 

- Aye aye, Captain.

I quickly let go of his leg, which immediately fell with a dull thud to the floor, before I began undoing my trousers. I watched in amusement at the sudden look of confusion taking over Crow’s otherwise neutral features.

- Wh- What are you doing?

- I’m undressing.

- Why?

- I’m taking a bath.

- You could give me a warning first. 

As I began pulling down my trousers, I watched as his eyes quickly looked away from the movement of my hands and away towards the window. I let the fabric hit the floor, stepping out of the discarded garment before walking back over towards the bathtub. I didn’t bother looking back towards Crow, as I could hear from the pull of the chain, and the sound of his naked feet against the floor that he was once again walking over to the window sill where he had been sitting earlier. It wasn’t until I had finished my own bath that I glanced over towards the pirate, finding him once again watching the sun dip down over the very edge of the world. Eyes trained on a spot far beyond where the sky met the sea. I found myself wondering once more what he was watching, or perhaps longing for. What sight he had before his inner eye whenever his face turned soft by the warm glow of the setting sun.