Soldier, Poet, King

Chapter 19: Lost on You

Izzy's arm is heavy around your waist. You wake to the soft sound of his breathing, warm puffs of air against your neck. He has rolled over, half on his side and half on his stomach, his face tucked between your shoulder and neck. Your eyes widen slightly when you notice his shirt is no longer on him, the feeling of his bare chest against you making your heart quicken. He must have just overheated, that's all. Slowly, as not to wake him up, you go to pull the blanket back up and over his shoulder. Just as you get it over the middle of his bicep he flinches, tightening his grasp around you tighter and gasping awake.

"Woah, easy there. It's just me."

Probably best not to mention him crying last night.

"Fuc- Don't... I-I didn't- Thought you were... Someone else..." He loosens his grasp on you and pulls away ever so slightly as he wakes up further. His brow furrows, eyes pressed shut, as he takes a long, slow breath in. As he exhales his face softens once more and his eyes open, "What I meant to say is 'good morning'."

"Good morning to you, too. How'd you sleep, then?"

"Fine. Got a bit warm at some point in the middle of the night, but I think that's just 'cause I'm not used to having to share a bed."

"Sorry... You could have woken me up if I was causing you problems-"

"You weren't a problem. Just something I'm not used to," Izzy trails off, studying your face. Filtered sunlight streams through the small window on the wall and cascades over your shoulder. Gold and green flecks shine in his hazel eyes. When he catches you staring he gets flustered, pressing his lips in a thin line as his cheeks flush pink, "I'll have you know, I don't make a habit of doin' this."

"Prolonged eye contact?"

"Shut up. I meant... Sleepin' with someone. N-Not that anything happened after you fell asleep-"

"I should hope not."

"I just wanted you to know I'm not... I don't..."

"I know. I don't either, for the record. Steal someone's bed just because they helped take my makeup off and stitched up a wound for me." You grin down at him, relishing the exasperated sigh you get from him as he tries not to smile.

"Fuck you."

"Not that you did last night-"

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," Izzy groans. He pushes himself to a sitting position and rubs his face a few times before pushing his hair back. It's sticking up everywhere, the remnants of whatever Wee John put in it to keep it slicked back making it a tangled mess. His shoulders tremble as he holds back laughter and exhales sharply, "Are you like this with all the men you steal beds from, or am I just special?"

"You're just special."

"Mmh-"

Although Izzy turns his head away you can see the tips of his ears blushing red. Your gaze falls to his back, being considerably closer to him now than you had been in the recreation room. Pale scars criss-cross over each other across his skin, slightly raised despite the many years since he was a part of Hornigold's crew. They must have been deep. Some are fresher than others, leading you to wonder if the torture had continued long after Horingold's demise. As though he can sense you staring, Izzy peers over his shoulder at you and sees the angle of your gaze.

"Ah..."

"Sorry-"

"Ed didn't have the most... warm example on how to behave like a Captain."

"Hornigold?"

"The devious rat bastard, himself."

"I'm sorry..."