Bloodtide

Part 41

From the wheel, I stirred us through the water. Ella had kept her distance from me, staying in the kitchen cooking. A bird came back, dropping a small scroll. I looked around, wondering where it came from, but I saw no nearing ships.

Curious, I opened the piece of paper, and my eyes widened as I read its contents. Before I could fully process the message, Ella's soft voice broke through my thoughts.

"Lunch is ready," she said, catching my attention. Her tone was gentle, but I could sense a hint of frustration beneath it.

I turned to look at her, noticing the way her eyes flickered with a mix of annoyance and something else—something that made my pulse quicken. She was upset with me, but there was still a spark between us, a tension that neither of us could ignore.

I stuffed the paper in my back pocket and made my way towards her, unable to resist a teasing smile. "What's on the menu, chef?"

Ella rolled her eyes, but there was a faint blush on her cheeks. "Just some stew," she replied, her voice steady despite the emotions swirling beneath the surface.

"Smells delicious," I said, stepping closer. "Almost as tempting as the cook herself."

She huffed, turning away as she rolled her eyes. But even as she walked back to the kitchen, I couldn't help but notice the way her steps faltered, just for a moment.

I followed her into the small galley, where the aroma of the stew filled the air. Ella moved gracefully, her back to me as she ladled the steaming meal into two bowls. The soft clinking of the ladle against the pot was the only sound, a contrast to the steady rhythm of the waves outside.

As she set the bowls on the table, I leaned against the doorframe, watching her. "You know," I began, my voice low, "you didn't have to make lunch. We could have managed."

She glanced at me, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Someone has to make sure we eat properly. Besides, I needed a break."

I knew she meant more than just the sea and the ship. The unspoken words hung between us, a reminder of the tension that had built over time. I stepped closer, unable to resist the pull between us. "Ella," I said softly, "are you upset with me?"

She looked down at the bowls, her fingers tracing the rim of one. Then she looked up, batting her long eyelashes with exaggerated innocence. "Why would I be upset, John?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I guess I just assumed wrong" I replied as she nodded.

She dragged her spoon through the stew, making a show of savoring each bite. "I  assume you'd have some idea of when we'll reach singapore."

I smiled, watching her intentionally. "We'll be there by the end of the day, actually."

Her eyes lit up with excitement, a spark of anticipation flashing across her face. "End of the day? Really?"

I nodded, enjoying her reaction. "Yep. We'll be there just in time for sunset."

Ella's expression softened, a glimmer of relief and unrestrained joy dancing in her eyes. "I'll see Henry," she whispered, her voice filled with a tender hope that seemed to light up her entire face.

I forced a casual shrug, but beneath the surface, a knot of unease tightened. "If Davy is even there," I mumbled, trying to keep my tone nonchalant but failing to hide the bitterness that seeped through.

She shot me a sidelong glance, her eyes flashing with a mix of irritation and resolve. "He will be there," she insisted, her voice firm and unwavering. "I know it. I can feel it."

Her certainty was like a knife twisting in my gut. I wanted to be supportive, to be the one who could make her feel secure, but the thought of Henry—the man who seemed to hold such a crucial place in her heart—stirred an undercurrent of jealousy within me.

I nodded, though my expression was a far cry from the easy acceptance I wanted to convey. My heart pounded with a mixture of frustration and envy, struggling to mask the turmoil beneath my calm facade. Ella's unwavering belief in Henry's presence, the way her face lit up at the mere mention of him.

I watched her, her gaze still fixed on some distant hope, and tried to push the storm of jealousy aside. She says she doesn't love the man yet the way she speaks of him begs to differ.

"Once we get Henry, we can head back home and finally escape all this pirate nonsense," Ella said with a weary smile, trying to sound hopeful.

I shot her a sardonic grin. "Yes, because the idea of you leaving my ship is the real treasure."

Ella's eyes flashed with annoyance. "Oh, is that so? I thought you were enjoying my company."

"Enjoying?" I raised an eyebrow. "More like enduring. I'd almost prefer facing a cannonball to dealing with your constant bickering."

Ella's lips tightened. "Well, maybe if you weren't so insufferably stubborn, I wouldn't need to bicker. It's like trying to reason with a wall."

"And maybe if you'd stop trying to run everything, we wouldn't be in half the mess we're in," I shot back, crossing my arms.

Ella scoffed. "Run everything? I'm just trying to keep us all alive. You know, unlike some people who seem perfectly content leaving behind for their own selfish reasons."

I glared at her. "Oh, so it's my fault we're in this situation? Maybe if you'd just stick to following orders instead of second-guessing everything, we'd be better off."

"Orders? Is that what you call your reckless plans?" Ella snapped. "Maybe if you listened to some advice once in a while, we might actually get somewhere without needing to fight every step of the way."

I took a deep breath, feeling the tension crackling between us. "Fine. Get Henry, and then you can go back to your glamours life. I'll just be here, enjoying the sea."

Ella's face softened, but she still held her ground. "And I suppose you'll be fine with that choice, even though it'll be a little less bright without me around."

I gave a humorless chuckle. "Bright? More like blinding. But if it means less arguing, I might just manage."

Ella shook her head with a wry smile. "Whatever. You're just a lonely pirate who rather spend centuries with themselves and some booze than do something good."

I felt my anger flare, and the words slipped out before I could stop them. "At least I'm not ashamed of myself. Yet you want to go back to a society that will never accept you. Me, on the other hand, I go where I am wanted."

Ella froze, her expression a mix of shock and hurt. Her breath hitched as she struggled to maintain her composure.  "You think you can use what I told you, against me?"

I saw the pain in her eyes and immediately regretted the harshness of my words. But before I could retract or soften my tone, she took a step back, visibly wounded.

"You know what," Ella said quietly, her voice trembling slightly, "maybe you're right. I guess I'm just the insecure girl who's gotten in your way."

Her words stung, but I could see the vulnerability behind them. "Ella, I didn't—"

"Save it," she cut me off, her voice steadying. "I'm tired of fighting with you. When this is all over, I'll finally be free of this... storm."

With that, she turned away, leaving me to grapple with the weight of what I'd said.