20 Reasons To Prove I Love Jack Sparrow. (Though that's not enough. 20 for 20 is fair beautiful)
Even though I am the Ex-Captain of the Flying Dutchman, I never allow you to kneel or bow before me. Ever. It is me that should worship you. This is to you dismay as you want to worship me too. But you can't so shh I love you.
I let you play with my hair. Believe it or not I'm very protective over my hair. I never let anyone but you touch it. Only you own my body.
I let you call me whelp in bed and then put up with the blush that always comes from you saying it in front of your crew.
You were my first ever. That night I will never forget.
I have cried for you. And I haven't cried since I was a child. And even then it was rare. I don't know Jack just something in you send my emotions into overload.
I look after you when you're drunk. Hold back you hair if you go a bit over the top, carry you to bed. Join you. Truthfully Jack I love your loving whilst your drunk. Hot, steamy and full of passion and emotion. I even remember you crying once. So heartbreakingly beautiful you looked.
Word can't describe how much you amuse me. And how funny I find you. Your just hilarious Jack, I can't explain it.
I won't even go into how beautiful I think you are. Or how I can't concentrate whenever you near.
I've looked deep enough into to find that lovely, kind, sweet and selfless man I always knew you had in you. Before all I could see from people was what was on the surface. You make me search deeper.
I let you teach me how to dance. I hate to dance. You say you do too but we all know you can dance. One can't be that good a sex without being somewhat of a dancer.
I sing you to sleep. I can't sing. But with you I don't care you come first.
Those times I use your hair to torture you at night? Well I had probably been up for hours before that just watching you. Your fascinating to me even more so when you're freaked out.
You know every painful memory of my life all the ones that torture me. It's only fair as you tell me yours.
I'm probably the one person on the Earth who fully trusts you.
I go along with all your crazy plans, most of which involve some form of immortality or shooting a monkey. Most curiously they mainly involve us dressing up as women. You in a dress is just… wow.
I follow all you're weird bedroom ideas. Only you could make a cucumber and strawberry jam work.
I'd give up the sea for you. Not to mention the Pearl and my own life along with probably everyone else's.
I cook for you when you're tired. You always insist to me that I'm not the cook, but honestly I like looking after you.
I let you dominate me. I've never done that before. But like I've said. I trust you.
I'm marrying you.
Oops. Didn't know I would except did you my gorgeous little fiancé.
Forever you're Whelp,
Will xxxxxxx
