She never thought it would come to this.
Okay, she gets that you fall in love with someone (real love, scary love) everything about them is intriguing.
But crushing on teeth? On a tooth?
Is that even a thing?
She's always loved his smile. Even when she wanted to punch him in the face, his smile would make her pulse quicken and her skin prickle.
He has a dozen different smiles, and she loves them all.
That swaggering smirk, she knows only too well. He'd used it on her within minutes of their first meeting, after all.
The tentative smile as his eyes search hers for the words she's not saying, she maybe knows more than she'd like.
And then there's the grin that stretches from ear to ear, teeth flashing white in his dark beard, as he tells her and Henry a hilarious but unlikely story from his past.
Her favourite smile, though, is her favourite for an absolutely embarrassing reason and it's a secret she'll take to her grave.
It's the smile he gives her when it's just the two of them, whether they're in her car or sprawled on the couch, when they find a moment's peace. It's the soft smile he gives her as she threads her hand through his, the almost shy smile that makes him look younger than his years, the tiny flash of one pointed tooth at the corner of his mouth filling her with the urge to kiss away every bad memory in his head. It's that smile that's curving his lips right now, and she suddenly loves him so much that it's like a tight ache in her chest.
Snaggletooth, she thinks with a pang of tender longing, smoothing the dark hair back from his forehead with her other hand.
He raises one dark eyebrow, bright eyes gleaming as blue as the sea that winks at them through the trees outside their house. "What's that look for?"
When she smiles, his gaze drops to her own lips, lingering hotly, awareness sparking between them like a lit match on dry tinder, and the word is out of her mouth before she can think better of it. "Snaggletooth."
His eyes widen, and she gives herself a mental slap. So much for keeping her weird little obsession a secret.
He tilts back his head, giving her another smile she knows very well, the charmingly confused pirate. "What did you just call me?"
Curling her hand around the back of his neck, she pulls his face down to his, deciding she's not going to be embarrassed by how much she likes every part of him ever again. "You heard me." Her answer is whispered against his lips, the press of his teeth firm against her mouth, his breath warm as he exhales a sigh of anticipation. "Got a witty comeback, Captain?"
He bites gently at her mouth - teeth sinking into her bottom lip in a slow, teasing challenge - before leaning back to regard the effect of his handiwork. He must like what he sees (how could he not, her breath is coming fast and hot and she feels drunk just on the feel of him pressed against her) because the boyish smile vanishes, replaced by a grin so wicked that every hair on her body seems to stand on end. "I'm sure I can think of something."