Loud music blared through the sound of the storm easing; in between each pitter-patter was the gentle notes made by the plucking of an instrument. James sat there on the table with one leg propped up and the other resting against the chair as his fingers danced from one string to the next. It was a sad melody that swept over around him, and it seemed even the splashing of the waves were in harmony with the sweet sorrowful tune that filled the dusk.
He rocked back and forth with his eyes closed, tapping his foot to the beat. "Morning light never twinkled bright on the hills of the place I grew up from. Darkness sat upon the horizon, taking and taking whatever its hands could hold, leaving a young lorwell boy all alone." Hat dipped down, his golden locks loose in the wind.
Strelitzia had watched from the ship's railing, with her back to the ocean while James played a mourningful song. It seemed personal and she almost felt like she was intruding on a private moment where memories of things past had overtaken his mind and his dexterous hands which plucked away were mere puppets to something greater than himself.
She didn't often indulge in music. It was an unnecessary luxury. Now that there was time and space to do so freely with nothing but the open waters to bear witness, she felt herself drawn to both the man and his sound.
The soft click of her heels were drowned out by everything else. Disturbing him seemed too intrusive, so she settled for seating herself atop the table, legs crossing at the ankles. Her cheek cradled by her palm as she observed even humming out a note or two here and there when the melody repeated. She hadn't even realized she'd been swaying where she sat.
The notes had come to an abrupt stop, his eyelids fluttering open beneath the moonlight as he cradled the guitar in his hands. "Did I wake you?"
"Yes but I don't mind. You sounded wonderful." Her hands clasped together in her lap. "Did you make the song yourself or was it something you picked up?"
"It came to me just now. I'm often restless at night." He smiled, glimpsing over his shoulder towards her. "Would you like to learn?" James asked, changing the subject. "To play, I mean."
Strelitzia shook her head no, though she smiled. "I couldn't possibly. I'm terribly clumsy when it comes to such things. I would hate to ruin your lovely guitar."
James ran a hand down his face, though one of his eyes were visible through the spaces between his fingers. "Are you doubting my teaching skills?"
"No, not at all! If you insist then I couldn't possibly deny you." She was nervous to say the least, sure that she couldn't possibly replicate the beauty of his music. Her fingers knotted together.
Standing, James walked around the table until he was positioned behind her with his chin resting on her shoulder. It was like his arms were pulling her into a hug save for the fact he positioned the guitar in her grasp correctly.
His hands held Strelitzia's, fingers forcing hers to move in a slow strum pattern. "These are your major and minors." He whispered, blonde tickling the nape of her neck. "Tap the face of the wood to keep your best. Strum patterns are always different depending on the song."
With him pressed closely to her she could smell the faint waft of tea still lingering on his breath and the mingling of sea salt and old varnish, most likely from the instrument in hand. Strelitzia was grateful he was behind her hiding the rising blush on her cheeks. "Trying this for myself I'm even more amazed at the ease you handled this." Clumsily her fingers moved along the path he set for her. Despite his steady guidance the music paled in comparison to the emotion filled can't that had awoken her. "I'm sorry for butchering this."
"Not at all. We all don't start perfect." White clouds puffed out when he spoke in a careful tone, the concentration evident in the way his voice trailed off. He kept shifting her fingers from one string to the next, helping her play the same melody he'd been playing moments before she joined him on the table.
"You are almost a natural. My sister not only had a green thumb but no matter how softly she'd pluck my strings she'd manage to break them." He laughed at that though. Eventually the song had come to its end, but he still held her hand by the wrist.
When there seemed to be no more notes to play and yet still he held her close, Strelitzia decided to lean back against him. It was her first time in the embrace of a man that wasn't family. The first time she allowed anyone to get this close. "You speak fondly of your sister. I'm sorry for such a loss." He was only trying to teach her how to play but she couldn't help the fluttery feeling in her stomach. He was warm, kind and gentle with an impossible sadness lingering behind every smile.
"You'll be sick of hearing my gratitude by the time we get there." Her head turned just a fraction, enough to feel his breath feather across her cheek while she glimpsed at him from the corner of her eye.
James straightened, allowing her to keep his guitar firmly in her grasp. He let out a loud sign. "Sometimes with loss we learn what's important. It has shaped me in a way that I don't think anything else could have."
His lips quirked at their corners, sending a dimple and a few wrinkles around his mouth. Taking his hat from his head, he pushed it all the way down on her own until it nearly covered her entire face. "Don't get gloomy on my watch. I might drown you in tea."
"There are worse ways to die. Though I can assure you I've got enough happiness to stay afloat for the both of us." The guitar was set aside carefully onto the table while she pushed the hat brim up enough to glimpse up at him. The pale moonlight cast a halo around his golden hair that seemed to catch every stray beam of light. It brought him to life like an angel plucked right from the heavens she often read about in the old world books.
Strelitzia turned away quickly to keep from staring and making him uncomfortable. "Are you still feeling restless?"
James shrugged and glimpsed out towards the sea. It was endless dark blues and blacks which met in every wave that curled and every cloud that moved in the sky. As a child, before he understood what true suffering was, he had yearned for the ocean. His father set sails for adventures no matter how poor they were; the only thing that ever truly mattered was family even when you had nothing.
But then a fear nestled itself into his heart the day he realized death could touch the ones a person cared about. It often hid in the shadows like the ones that were backdrops of mountains and mini islands, the ones in the corners of the ship. Always uneasy when you've lived as several different people just to survive.
"I'm a different kind of restless, I suppose. Enough about me though. Tell me some of your hopes and dreams." James encouraged, his calloused fingers playing with the thread that had worked itself loose in his sleeve. It seemed he enjoyed keeping his eyes closed in moments like this. Perhaps imagining whatever he couldn't create for himself when someone else told their hopes and dreams; so even if it seemed far-fetched they'd know someone still tried to perceive it as though it were real.
Strelitzia could tell by the change in subject that she'd pricked a sore spot by mistake, probably dredging up memories best left forgotten. She cleared her throat. "I want to travel the world and see everything there is to see. Train, car, boat, it doesn't matter how I get there. I've always felt like there is so much out there undiscovered just waiting for the right person to stumble upon it."
There was a sort of steamy aura about the whole thing. Sitting beneath the night sky in the middle of the ocean with no interruptions beyond the distant call of gulls. "I want to say I've climbed the highest mountain, been to the hottest deserts, see beaches with pearls instead of sand. I want to experience what real living is. Sure, I come from money. But nothing I have is my own. I haven't experienced the frustrations of working for a single goal or the satisfaction of finally achieving it through my own merit."
Her lips pressed together in a thin line. "That probably sounds like the whinings of a spoiled rich girl. But that's all I've ever wanted. I don't want to rule over others or be anyone's salvation. I just want to live." The admittance was a relief off her shoulders.
Others made plans and had expectations for the things they expected from her. She never had the heart to tell them that marriage and politics never sat well with her. For a woman of her standing that was all anyone expected.
James chuckled. "By no means am I picking on your dreams, but you'd never want to go to the hottest desert. I've been there and I can gladly say I would've been just fine without experiencing it. Unless you want to look like a shriveled raisin." After he said this, he pursed his lips to the point wrinkles formed above his cupid bow, giving him the look of an elderly person. It soon eased back into its usual smoothness when he couldn't stop laughing. "But I get that. Just wanting to live."
Finally he pulled the loose string and held it up to the moonlight. Life was similar. Pulling one string could unravel someone's entire life for better or worse. There were moments he wondered if he'd pulled the right one on down the line. "Though I can say, I'd give anything to be that sheltered boy again. Worrying about the next meal and how to keep food on my table." Releasing it, he smiled again, turning completely towards her now. He plucked his hat from her head and placed it on his own once more.
"Wouldn't want people on the ship to get the wrong idea." He winked, then went on to say, "Your mother would murder me If she knew you were up this late. Your aunt, I mean. Outside of 'make sure no harm comes to her, don't flirt with her,' there was a 'make sure she goes to bed at an appropriate time."
"Two out of three. You're doing great although technically I did go to bed, I just didn't stay there." She slid from the table, stretching with her arms towards the sky before letting out a big yawn. "I am old enough to make these decisions for myself regardless of my Aunt's fretting. It's sweet that she is concerned though I could never tell her no." Both hands rose to comb through her hair, pushing it back into place from where the hat–and probably sleep–had missed it.
"But," A teasing grin had overtaken her features, "If you're eager to be rid of me just say the word."
"I'm eager to have you arrive with good rest and not—" Something slammed into the ship's side and nearly sent James off his feet, but he managed to catch Strelitzia and himself before they could go hurling over the rail. The night sky lit up ember, flames raining down upon the deck and sizzling as large cannonballs set ablaze streaked through the clouds, heading their way. It was over a dozen.
One of his crew mates sounded a horn and booted footfall was all around while men and women positioned themselves. "We're under attack. Go below deck." Ten men flew off the ship, body parts flying every which way when the Cannonball crashed. Splinters of wood shot upwards. James grabbed Strelitzia's arm and started moving towards the stairs.