One of my personal Jack stories. For some reason, I DO believe that the perfect man is a poet on a motorcycle, or a pirate(a sexy one at that) who rambles about stuff. (hides Jack in closet) I don't own him, but I can kidnap him. MWAHAHAH. Yay! Anyway, it's about Jack, and the sea, his domain…
Jack hummed a little lullaby as he steered the ship. The moon was full and pale moonlight shone down on him, illuminating his hair with a halo. He grinned as he took a swig of rum. No, he wasn't thinking about rum, or ladies, or rum, but about the sea. He smiled looking upon her dark waters that engulfed everything in their paths. She was so, he searched for a word, so magical.
The sea was a part of him. She'd showed him her power, the way that no one could tame her. She'd showed him treasures beyond his imagination, beyond his wildest dreams, she was beautiful, wild, she drove him crazy, she was like the woman he could never find.
He couldn't ever find the words to describe her. Her varying colours that never stayed still, her unpredictable moods, her ever changing temperature. One moment you could jump into her and swim for hours, another you could die of hypothermia.
He'd lived on the sea his entire life, not a trick there was that he did not know. He knew that the birds stayed silent and the skies blue before a storm, he knew that any sort of birds circling in the sky meant activity.
He loved the sea, more than he could ever love another woman. He loved her more than life itself. He loved her as much as freedom, which was brought to him by the sea. He could go wherever he wanted whenever he wanted and no one could stop him, well, they could try, but nobody said anything about succeeding. People kept telling him that he was too old, and that he needed to retire. But they didn't understand.
He needed her. He needed the sea. The sea was a part of him, and he a part of the sea. You couldn't possibly take them apart. He'd pine away on land. He hated the steadiness of it. He hated the fact that you could never feel it moving under your feet, and know that you're moving around.
When he was a child, he'd spent almost all of his time in the sea. He lived near the docks, and even though him mother feared that the sea would take him away, just like it had taken his father, he used to sneak out at night. He was the dolphin. In fact, one of his admirers, co-incidentally the daughter of the metal-smith had stolen a necklace with a dolphin pendant. He wore it to this day, and those fools who told him to settle down, never understood the freedom that she so craved and desired.
They never understood, that the sea was, and would always be a part of him…
