𝐖𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘, 𝖺 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝖻𝗎𝗆

the pirate waltz

The cabin rocked gently with the motion of the ship, lantern light flickering across the dark wooden walls. 

The meeting had just ended. Heavy words, drawn maps, the usual weight of survival settling on every shoulder. Bea lingered by the windowsill, arms folded, staring out at the black sea.

Then, a creak. A soft, nearly-forgotten hum floating from the old record player Luke had found in one of the trading outposts. The melody was scratchy, warbled with time. A song Nico hadn't heard in years.

He stilled by the doorway.

It was an old sailor's waltz, slow and aching. 

The kind his mother used to hum when she thought no one was listening. The kind his father would pull her close to, on nights the ship swayed just right and the crew had drunk themselves quiet.

He crossed the room without a word, stood in front of Bea. "Can I steal a moment?"

Bea blinked. "You mean a dance?"

He gave a one-shoulder shrug, hand extended, suddenly shy. "Only if you're not too sore from knocking over three chairs in that meeting."

She rolled her eyes but her smile, soft and tired, said yes. "Fine. One dance, pirate."

Their hands met. One on her waist, the other in his calloused palm. The cabin spun gently as they moved, swaying in a circle with no real grace but plenty of heart. The music warbled on.

"You've heard this before," Bea murmured.

"Yeah," Nico said quietly. "When I was a kid. My parents... they used to dance to this."

A beat of silence passed. Bea didn't say anything, didn't push or pry. She just leaned in a little closer, her cheek brushing his.

"I think they'd be proud of you," she whispered.

Nico closed his eyes. For once, the ache of memory felt... warm.

They danced until the song ended. No audience, no spotlight — just two people choosing each other in the dark.