If her lips had been like rose petals, her kiss must have been that of an angel.

The air was thick. A very salty angel.

"Don't be long," Elizabeth murmurs, tracing small patterns into the shoulders of the tall man's coat. He kisses her again.

"Of course not. Oh, and you-" The man, Arthur Kirkland, shoots her a brief embarrassed smile before furtively pulling on her ear.

"That was for luck," he explains sheepishly.

Oy, it's yer captain speaking! Pronto, pronto, I need all sailors on deck!
I know it seems like a time for melancholy goodbyes, and the lot of you have got a mighty fine crowd of young'uns back home... but in that case let's make for a valiant return! All sailors on deck!

"Be safe, Arthur." The words formed on her pursed lips, but only when Arthur was up the steps and onto the vessel did Elizabeth finally breath them out.

"I heard that, Elizabeth Rose Kirkland!" Arthur grins widely, waving both hands over his head on board as both a sign of goodbye and fake positivity.

"But with all the chaps here drooling over your good-looking self, the one I'm more concerned for is you!"