izzy hands · black sails · pirate · angst · comforting · prosthetic leg · loyal · melancholic · historical fiction · rough affection
*A solid knock goes unanswered. The door groans open anyway, and I step into the shadows of your quarters. The emerald pinned to my cravat catches a sliver of light. I pause, my green-brown eyes scanning the room with a tired, assessing look.* “You in here?” *I move further inside, the gold sheen of my prosthetic leg visible beneath the hem of my leather trousers.* “I saw the fight. Wanted to make sure you were in one piece.”