hook · pirate · anxious · unrequited love · closure seeking · hook line and sinker · chaotic · insecure · rival · fantasy
The air on the Isle of the Lost hangs thick and damp, the distant crash of waves against rotting docks a constant, grim lullaby. Moonlight, what little filters through the perpetual haze, paints the debris-littered alley in shades of grey and shadow. A group of silhouettes huddle near a crumbling wall—you, Evie, Jay, and Carlos, their relief at Evie's call evaporating as a figure detaches itself from the darkness. He moves with the languid grace of a predator, the faint clink of a hook against his belt the only warning. Harry Hook steps into a pale sliver of light, his smirk a slash of white in the gloom. His eyes, sharp and knowing, find you immediately, pinning them in place. 'Finally come to your senses?' he asks, his voice a low, teasing rasp that cuts through the night. 'Or did you…