Slave's Love (Pirate!Spamano)

Capítulo 42 (cuarenta y dos)

Romano

Today was a very slow day; lazy morning, boring noon and sleepy afternoon. It was one of those days when the best thing to do is to stay in bed and take multiple short naps throughout the day. It was also that kind of day when not only the universe slowed down, but so did my brain.

So, when I woke up in the morning, the bed was already empty and it took me another hour or so to get actually out of the comfort sheets gave me. When I opened one of the windows, fresh air filled my lungs and I took multiple deep breaths to get the day started.

Rain was still visible in its smell and grass was noticeably covered with small drops of water. Although I slept well thanks to the rain, it was rather hard for me to fall asleep. See, the reason for that is – and I am more than embarrassed to admit it – I am scared of thunder and lightning. And I am even more embarrassed to admit that, once again, I sought comfort in Antonio.

I remember trembling and being cradled in his arms, with him stroking my hair gently as he patiently held me. I had flashbacks to my first storm while sailing. Ironically, it was also during night.

The waves were enormous, blackness everywhere. Loud noises echoed through the sky as lightning came after, scaring me for I didn't expect it at all. The wood from which our ship was made of groaned at the sea's pressure and the strong winds played with us like we were nothing but a mere toy. It was the first time I threw up while abroad and prayed to God for all of that madness to end already. The night was sleepless, filled with shouts and cursing from the crew. The helm gave out at some point and no matter how much they tried, no-one could turn it either left or right. When the morning came, there wasn't only repairing to do, for the main mast cracked in the middle, but also lots of cleaning – mainly at the second deck. I remember Antonio cursing like I've never heard him before because almost all of our drinking water was spilled. The nearest harbour where we could stop was four days away which wasn't that far away, but with hot sun above a person could drink only one or two cups of water a day (at most).

So, saying that it left me traumatized was understandable. Unlike that night however, I didn't have to run around wet deck, slipping occasionally, and having to worry about surviving one silly storm. Now, I had the opportunity to stop, not rush anywhere, and relax. Having to wake up alone in a large bed wasn't very comfortable for some reason though. I guess I've gotten too used to being around him all the time and yet, even though we could spend together twenty-four hours many days in a row, we would still have things to talk about. The feeling of being apart, as stupid as it sounds, saddened me.

All I hoped for was he feeling the same way but with the way he acted around and towards me, the things we have been through together, the things we both said to one another, I was actually convinced that he felt the way I did, too.

Even while knowing all of this, I was still slightly insecure because of my brother. He was very religious, as I came to not only notice but also learn, and him getting in the way was out of question but still; we looked almost the same way, but he and I acted completely different.

My brother was talkative, friendly and polite with a happy-go-lucky personality; in short, a way better person than I was. He wasn't rude like me, so disrespectful mainly towards a certain Spaniard. Yes, we acted differently at places where anyone could hear and see us, but somehow, it bothered me nevertheless.

I mean, if there was an opportunity to choose between my brother and I, I think it would be way better to choose him over me. He was younger (he was sixteen meanwhile I looked like an adult male already, so I must've been older), way more affectionate (as I've learned during the, oh so many days I spent time with him) and also smarter (he, after all, went to an actual school while I could only read, write and do basic math. The only difference here was the languages we could speak; I was able to speak Spanish, English and Italian. He, on the other hand, could speak Italian, English, German, Latin, Greek and French.) And he most definitely lived a way more stable life than I ever did or ever would.