Crazy In Love | Buggy

e i g h t y - t w o

Over the next few weeks, I clung to Buggy as often as I could. Unfortunately for me, our crew was down to just the two of us, which meant he had to be up manning the wheel quite often. More often than not, actually. He insisted that I didn't have to sit up on the deck with him, but I refused to be parted from him.

The looming threat of our limited time had only grown in the last few weeks. He made little comments every so often, about how it was a wonder that I hadn't died on our journey, or about how knowing our luck we'd run into more trouble on our journey.

Clearly, he had been thinking more about what he had said. Was he coming closer to deciding on leaving me behind? The thought of it alone made me nauseous with fear.

I was currently leaning against the wooden railing, watching him as he manned the wheel. He looked quite handsome as he did it. He always looked so focus, so determined. He was a true pirate, it seemed to run through his veins.

He noticed me watching him and got this small smirk across his face. "You're staring."

"Am I?" I asked dumbly, moving away from the railing and closer to him. I stood beside him, so close but not yet touching him.

"You know you were. Do I really look that good?" he teased.

Truthfully, he did. These last few weeks, I hadn't managed to keep my hands off of him, and he hadn't resisted my constant attempts to initiate intimacy.

The prospect of losing him only served to make me want him more. I savoured every single kiss we had, as if it was our last. Each one felt that desperate. I wondered if he was picking up on it or not. How could he not? I wanted to ask him what he thought of it. Did he feel bad for leaving me worrying about him leaving me? If so, he wasn't showing it.

I scanned my eyes up and down his body. Today, he was wearing long black shorts, that reached down to his knees. His legs were hairy, which I liked. It made him look incredibly manly. He was wearing a red shirt, which was unbuttoned party. I scanned my eyes down his chest, getting the sudden impulse to reach out and touch him.

On his face, there was no makeup whatsoever. He chose not to wear it around me anymore, which felt like a compliment. He used to hide behind it. He used to be shy about his nose. Somehow, I had grown used to his big red nose. Without it, he wouldn't be him. I loved every part of him just as it was. In its natural state.

He suddenly wrapped an arm around my waist, turning away from the wheel so that he could pull me against him. "You're still staring."

I rolled my eyes. "I am not."

He kissed me. It was sudden, and didn't last any longer than one second. When he pulled back, I let out a soft groan of annoyance. That wasn't enough - that wasn't a real kiss. I yearned for more.

"You seem off," he told me then. It killed the mood completely because he was right. I had been off, for weeks. Yet this was the first time he was asking about it.

Did I want to talk to him more? I was worried that, whatever answers he gave me, would only serve to make me more anxious.

I bit down on my lip, breaking our eye contact. "I'm not off."

He sighed, rubbing his hands up and down my back in a soothing motion. "Betty, I know you better than anyone else. You can talk to me, you know?"

I looked back up at him, into those green eyes of his. They searched mine, as if they would find answers lost in there somewhere.

"You're... " I began, but the words hitched and caught painfully in my throat. All of a sudden, I felt tears well up in my eyes. I blinked them back, but they just kept coming and coming until they were streaming down my cheeks.