I do look at her. Whenever I can steal a glance, that is... I have to be careful these days, not to let her eyes stare into mine for more than but a few instant seconds at a time. I am not quite sure why that is, but I do have three theories on it; before the recent developments, I could have sworn it was because I could see disdain for me within those unbelievably intricate green eyes I've grown to adore... and handsome devil that I am, I am but a novice at this new thing called 'unrequited love'... Bloody hell, does that thing hurt! But upon our return from New York I found her gaze to be warmer, far more pleasing... and there is no denying it, it was a gaze that even a year of banditry and terrible misbehavior was unable to erase from my every waking thought. These days she seems actually pleased to be in my company... a dirty, bearded, ear-pierced, tattooed, hairy, leather clad, one handed, boozing pirate... and yes, she seeks me out. She even smiles at me. Laughs with me... jokes with me...
Which brings me to theory number two... which is my own selfish incapacity to deal with her turning her back on me yet again when she finds out that the man she seems to inexplicably place her faith on, went off the bend yet again, killed, betrayed and sailed the seas of the realm like the selfish-arsed pirate that he was... or is. I no longer know for sure. But then she did say she no longer cared to know because she wanted to move on to better things. So now I'm left with the third and quite possibly most accurate of my musings:
I can't look at her because I love her too bloody much. Too much to allow her to continue down that path she obviously seems to have picked... a path at my side. Not because I don't deserve her; I swore I'd fight beyond all capacity to win her precious heart, make it mine, guard it and love it till I finally draw my long overdue final breath. I know what I want and who I want and why... but I also know I love her too much precisely because of that unbelievable light, that shine that makes her one amidst a crowd of millions... she is Unique. She is the savior. She is much more than a princess caught in the eye of a storm... And alas, she has chosen this dashing albeit ragged pirate to be her true love. I can sense it, doesn't take a silver sextant to read out THAT particular set of lucky stars. And this, I have to say, should indeed make me the happiest man in all the universe.
But it does not.
Bloody witch... she used the one remaining piece of white in a soul that had otherwise been blackened by years of hatred and a loathsome Machiavellian desire to kill: My love. She has tarnished my one hope at redemption... my kiss. And should I even attempt at allowing her down this path of love my Swan has saved for me, she shall bring her lips to my own, melt into them... and what should be the uttermost covenant of my hopes for happiness as well as her own will become her undoing... I have been cursed by evil; my kiss is the sword she wields to destroy the power, the light, the very essence of my Emma, so that she can be vulnerable... a sitting duck.
So I do believe the third theory is the most accurate at present time: I am cursed to not reap the benefits of my hard-fought labor: I have lost it all... I am doomed to be neither pirate nor hero; I am not worthy of the latter title, and as for piracy? That is no longer me. What to do? To die or leave and do good by her, save her life and those of whom she loves an again break her precious heart? It is my punishment to yearn for her endlessly, to never again hope for a happy ending when my score has so badly been tainted by blood red ink.
I am a torn shadow of someone who was once a man in love, who was once a mercenary-for-hire, who was once a pirate, who was once Naval Lieutenant who was once a man. A simple man who thought of nothing but good form and dreamed of love and adventure.
Such are my thoughts when she places those relentlessly spirited eyes on mine.
However... I will not leave her side.
Might I become a liability to her and our... pardon me, her son? Perhaps, but as true as my name is Killian Jones, I swore in good form that I'd remain at her side through fire and blood and that will fight to my very last breath for her to be victorious. And she shall. I've yet to see her fail.
All I have now is hope, and to that I will hold. I've seen enough of these bloody heroes to know they always find their way through the thickest, darkest fog, something even I, a skilled seaman, have always had a hard time in doing... And hopefully, someday, I will be able to return that precious smile with one of my own, to gratify my thirst and hers, that terrible longing of the soul and the flesh, to quench our desire for love in each other's embrace and, who knows, I might even brave the stormy seas of her father's wrath by asking her to become my bride.
But for now, I shan't look into her eyes, should she be looking into mine... for she does not need to be burdened further by the weight of my tears.