Resurrection

Chapter 10: A Natural Romantic

Saraghina carefully sits on the chair's arm as she continues to kiss Edward's jaw. The feeling of his beard beneath her lips is intoxicating. She leans in heavier, letting each kiss linger a little longer. Edward's breath is heavy as he lets short moans escape in response.

"Sara. Sara, dear." Edward finally says breathlessly. He gently grabs her face and angles it to meet his gaze. Their faces are both flushed, and their breaths are heavy. "Saraghina, dear, I can't do this."

Saraghina's eyebrows turn down in confusion, and she feels her heart sink at the response. She doesn't know what to think, or how to feel. She thought she was reading his advances clearly.

"W-Why not?" Saraghina asks dejected, Edward's hand still on her cheek. "You . . . you don't think I'm pretty?"

Edward's face falls into despair, he feels his heart shatter. How could she ever think that that's the reason?

"No, darling, no of course it's not that." Edward begins, flustered. He adjusts himself on the chair to sit up straighter. He notices Saraghina's uncomfortable position on the arm, and slowly guides her to sit on his lap. He holds her hands. "Sara, darling, you are so beautiful. You're too beautiful."

Saraghina continues to stare at Edward incredulously from his lap, their faces closer now.

"What do you mean 'too beautiful'?" Saraghina asks, confused.

Edward's eyes look away as he sighs and rubs his mouth with his hand, thinking. Finally, he gazes back at Saraghina.

"You. You're so beautiful, so young, so kind, and sweet, and understanding. You're so smart and brave. You're a blessing to this godforsaken world we live in. I . . . don't want to ruin that beauty." Edward explains, his eyes seeming to well slightly.

"Edward . . ." Saraghina says softly as she places her hand on his cheek, she rubs her thumb soothingly. "You're beautiful, too. You're all of those things and more. How could you ever ruin me when all you do is help me?"

Edward's heart aches at Saraghina's genuine words. Part of him wants to lean in and kiss her, to feel her soft lips against his, to hold her body tightly in his arms; to make love to her would be like making love to an angel.

"Darling, you don't understand." Edward says, despondent. "The way I've been with you . . . isn't how I've been my whole life. I've done bad things, violent things. I've lied, cheated, and stolen. I've hurt my own friends."

Saraghina listens intently as Edward lists his shortcomings, shortcomings she assumes all pirates have to some degree. She never thought he was involved in a noble profession.

"I never believed you were a saint, Edward." Saraghina begins. "I know that being a pirate is a . . . rough job. And I know that you're the pirate. I always assumed you had to do . . . a lot . . . to get to where you are."

"You have no idea." Edward says despairingly.

"What I'm saying is . . . I know all that. And I don't care. You're a lovely person, Edward. One of the loveliest I ever met." Saraghina explains, now petting his long hair, something she's wanted to do since she met him. "You say that I'm brave, and I'm smart. Why won't you let me make this informed decision for myself? Something we both . . . clearly want."

"You sound like a lawyer." Edward jests quietly, rubbing his thumb on Saraghina's hand. She allows herself to smile warmly at Edward in response. "Have you ever been kissed?" Edward asks as he locks eyes with Saraghina once again. She feels her breath hitch at the question.

"I've had . . . little kisses. My friends and I used to practice together, and I kissed a boy when I was sixteen. Of course, it's been a while . . ." Saraghina explains, flustered.