A string of colorful swears escaped Nora's mouth as she followed me outside. But unlike my steps, which propelled me towards the scuffle, hers stopped at the doorway of her shop, lingering as she watched with what I'm sure was a mixture of concern and irritation.
I didn't waste time looking back to see.
Hook, who was sprawled on his stomach, was hastily making an attempt to roll onto his back while Reilly attempted to land as many hits as he could.
"Reilly!" My shout landed on deaf ears. "Reilly, stop it!"
Hook rolled onto his back. "Better listen to her, mate," he huffed as he dodged one of Reilly's fists. "Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."
Reilly scowled, his other fist a blur as he brought it down. Hook wasn't quick enough this time and he suffered quite the left hook. The sheer force of the hit caused his head to smack against the cobblestone and he had to blinked heavily a few times before his eyes refocussed.
If Reilly noticed the shadow spreading through Hook, he didn't show it. But I noticed, and it scared me.
"Reilly, stop!" I closed the gap between the fight and myself and wrapped my fingers into Reilly's shirt and pulled as hard as I could. It was enough to make Reilly lose his balance and fall backwards. It sent me stumbling too, but a scrape on my rear was better than Hook and Reilly trying to kill each other.
I felt hope rise in me. I could help stop this before it got too ugly.
But I wasn't prepared for Reilly's reaction. His eyes flashed dangerously as he brought his arm back, surly an attempt to get away from me and back at Hook, and knocked me in the mouth.
I untangled my hands from Reilly's shirt and brought them to my mouth. My bottom lip was split and bleeding, but I was so worked up that I didn't feel any pain. At least, not yet. When I brought my fingers back, the tips were smeared crimson. I could taste the tangy copper, which made my stomach churn, but I pushed it away.
"Holly!" Nora's voice was shrill as she squatted next to me and turned my face for her to examine. "Are you alright?" she asked.
"I'm fine," I insisted, brushing her hands away, but I could tell by her set shoulders that she wasn't leaving my side.
I turned my attention back to the scuffle, which had begun to draw a crowd, just in time to see Reilly climbing over Hook. But Hook was better prepared now.
He brought his knees up before Reilly could pin him and kicked Reilly hard in the chest, sending him sprawling backwards, gasping for air. He clawed at the cobblestone as he tried to drag himself away from Hook, who was quickly getting to his feet, the shadow settling over him like storm clouds.
"Thomas, don't," I pleaded as I tried to get to my feet. Hook's eyes, which had been glued dangerously to Reilly, flicked to me. I swallowed the fear that rose in my throat as I stared back at hard eyes and forced myself to stand tall as I stepped into his path. I put up my hands, as if in surrender, and Hook stopped.
"Move, Holly," he growled, but I shook my head. Behind me Reilly coughed and struggled to take in air. Hook snarled. "He started this—"
"And I'm stopping it." I tried to sound authoritative, but I could hear the waver in my voice. When Hook was like this, he terrified me, and I couldn't be sure that he wasn't going to push me aside like Reilly had just a moment ago.
"He hurt you," he stated, his voice low.
I nodded. "I know."
He tried to step around me, but I was quicker. My open palms pressed against his chest, the softness of his shirt somehow giving me the courage to look him in the eye.
"Thomas, please. Enough."
"Captain!"
Everyone's eyes shifted to Hook's crew, who were coming up from the beach. Porter lead them, with Langley, Smee, Fane, Axton, and Gresham all at the front.
"What in the bloody hell is going on here?" Gresham asked, his eyes darting from his captain, to me, and then finally to Reilly. We must have been quite the sight; Hook with a slightly bleeding nose, me with a busted lip, and Reilly laying in the street trying to catch his breath.
"Looks like someone crossed the captain," Porter answered, his eyebrows shooting up as he studied Reilly, who had started to sit up. "And the princess by the looks of it," he added, his eyes landing on my lip.
Reilly's breathing was labored, but I was relieved just to see him breathing at all. One hand cradled his chest, and his gaze stayed glued to the street, his sandy curls hiding his eyes. Slowly, he curled a leg beneath him as he tried to stand.
"Stay down you piece of filth," Hook spat, taking one threatening step forward. I pushed on him again, praying to whatever gods would listen that Hook didn't try to plow through me. I was no match for Hook should he decide to go after Reilly, so I prayed that the more people kept talking, the more time he'd have to calm down.
A long, low whistle passed Porter's lips.
"I'd do what he says, boy," Gresham said with a scowl.
But Reilly didn't listen. He slowly got to his feet, his face twisting in pain as took in a sharp breath. He stumbled, but caught himself, before shooting a glare Gresham's way.
"Since when d' I listen to yer captain?" Reilly wheezed.
Gresham bristled and took a threatening step forward, but Porter held out an arm, blocking his way.
"You best hold your tongue you little brat!" Gresham bellowed.
"Enough! All of you!"
Never in my life had I been so grateful to hear Nora's voice. She stepped forward, her hands on her hips, the anger on her face was impossible to miss.
I could feel the rise and fall of Hook's chest beneath my hands. Slowly, his breathing was returning to normal, his heartbeat slowing beneath my fingertips. But the shadow didn't lift, so I stayed put.
He gingerly rubbed his jaw, opening and closing it to make sure it wasn't broken. He'd probably have a bruise before sunset, but it was better than a broken jaw. Then his eyes flickered down to me.
"He hurt you," he said again, his voice low.
"It was an accident," I said in an attempt to calm the anger that was rising in his eyes again. "I got in the way." It was a weak excuse, and I could tell by the way Hook kept shooting glances at Reilly that he didn't entirely buy it, but between my minor injury and Nora's stern proclamation, he let it slide.
I sucked in a sharp breath as the pad of his thumb gently brushed against my split lip, tiny pins and needles stabbing into the cut. He flinched but didn't pull his hand away.
"Sorry, love," he said, his brows knitted together in worry, but I just shook my head.
The crowd that had gathered to watch the struggle began to disperse, leaving Hook, Reilly, and I alone in the street. Nora lingered and Hook's crew stood where the beach met the stone, waiting for orders from their captain.
"Get back to work, boys," Hook said as he peered over my head at his waiting crew. "We still have a lot of work to do before tomorrow." He said the last part with a pointed look at Reilly, who glared back.
I could tell Reilly was still furious by the way he clenched his fists at his sides and by the way he held his shoulders, but every time his eyes found me, they sparkled with an unspoken apology, and he grimaced every time his eyes fell on my lip. I know he wanted to say something, anything that could make the whole situation better, but instead he turned and made his way down the narrow alley behind him, never looking back. He had already lost once today, and I wasn't sure he wanted to do so again so soon.
What had caused him to go after Hook like that in the first place, I wasn't sure.
The thought was lost on me when I felt Hook's warm hand encase one of mine and bring it down between us, his thumb running over my knuckles.
A blush erupted across my cheeks as I screamed at myself to look up at him, but my nerves got the better of me so instead, I looked at his hand in mine.
The cool silver of his hook found its way under my chin and gently forced me to look up at him. The stormy shadow was gone from his eyes, leaving me to look into pools of blue. His brows were still knitted together and his eyes seemed to glide over every inch of my face before finally coming back to meet my gaze.
As the wrinkles on his forehead and the lines between his brows disappeared and his famous smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth, I felt myself relax.
"Let's go clean up that lip," he said with a wink. "What do you say, love?" He didn't wait for my response before he turned to look at Nora. "What do you say, Nora? Is it alright if I steal her away for a while?"
I turned to Nora, still very much aware that Hook still held my hand, just in time to see her cross her arms and give Hook her sternest look.
But there was a twinkle in her eye that told me she couldn't say no and a shadow of a smile on her lips as she quickly glanced at Hook and I's joined hand.
She sighed, her best attempt to sound irritated, and Hook's smile grew. "I suppose," she said before she turned her eyes to me, "but there will be plenty of work to be done when you get back."
I nodded, sure my words would fail me. She smiled at me then, shooting me a wink before turning on her heel and waddling back into her shop and shutting the door behind her.
###
I washed the blood from my fingers in the wash basin that Hook had in his quarters before discarding the the rag we had used to blot my lip. My lip still stung but, as Hook happily pointed out, it didn't look nearly as bad with the blood dabbed away.
"It'll heal just fine," he mused, turning my head from side to side before he dropped his hand and hook to his lap.
Now, as I turned back to face him, I noticed his grimace as he lightly prodded the back of his head, the tips of his fingers coming back sticky with blood.
I wasted no time in grabbing a clean rag and making my way back over to where he sat on his bed.
"Your turn," I said with a gentle smile before reaching behind him and gently dabbing the back of his head with the rag. He sucked in sharp breath, pain evident on his face as he clenched his eyes shut. He swore under his breath as his hand reached out and grabbed the one that wasn't currently trying to clean his wound.
"Relax," I soothed before ordering him to duck his head. "I need to get a good look at it; make sure it doesn't need any of Fane's stitching."
He grumbled his discontent but did as I asked.
As gently as I could, I pulled back the rag, and sighed in relief. The cut wasn't deep and wouldn't need stitching.
"Hold this in place," I ordered, guiding his hand up to the cloth. "It looks clean enough, but next time you take a bath, make sure to wash the area really well." He nodded, one of his eyebrows arching in surprise.
"Since when do you know so much about treating injuries?"
I smiled despite the violent twist in my gut. "John used to get hurt all the time," I explained as I tried to talk around the lump rising in my throat, "and if we ever went to a healer, they were bound to blab. I learned a lot about cuts and bumps and bruises."
His eyes softened as I said this, and I resisted the urge to cry as I remembered how beat up John had been the day Peter had brought him to Mystasia.
The day Peter wanted to take me away before my father refused.
The day that had sent my world spinning dangerously out of control.
I ducked my head and swallowed hard. I would not let all of it overwhelm me, not now. Instead, I looked up at Hook and smiled, my eyes flicking to the bruise that had started to form along his jaw. He grinned back, seemingly proud of his battle scars.
I stood one last time and retrieved another clean rag and dabbed one end in water before returning to the bed and Hook. I sunk down, closer this time, and gently took his whiskered chin in my hand. Then, very carefully, as not to jolt him and cause him pain, I dabbed away the dried line of blood beneath his nose.
Sitting so close to Hook, it was hard not to notice just beautiful his eyes were. From a distance, they shone cerulean, but up close, one could see ribbons of silver swirling in the blue.
His eyes really are like the ocean, I thought distractedly as I forced myself to focus on my work.
I started when I felt the coolness of his hook on my cheek. The edge traced along my cheekbone, causing goosebumps to rise on my arms.
I stopped dabbing at his nose, the line of blood long gone, and met Hook's gaze. His eyes were searching— always searching— and I swear I saw the silver in his eyes swirl.
"You have been so brave, Holly." His voice was husky as he held my gaze, his usual flirtatious smirk gone, leaving only a seriousness that I hadn't seen since the night he was reunited with Tink.
Tears sprung to my eyes before I could stop them, and I blinked several times to keep them from falling, but Hook just shook his head before cupping my other cheek, the rag that he had been holding to his head forgotten on the bed beside him.
"I don't feel brave," I whispered as the first tear fell onto my cheek. Hook's thumb was quick, wiping the tears away expertly as they started to come faster.
And then his lips were on my face, kissing away every tear, and I felt like my head was swimming, but I didn't pull away. I didn't want to pull away.
Instead, I tangled my fingers in his shirt and pulled him closer.
For a moment, he seemed startled by my bravery, but then he was snaking an arm around my waist and pulling me into his lap.
We both froze then, our foreheads pressed together as we both tried to catch our breath. I felt far too warm in my dress, and Hook's cheeks were stained rosy pink as he stared up at me, his ever-searching eyes sparkling as he tucked my hair behind my ear. I gripped his shoulder's tightly, afraid that I would fall apart if I didn't.
"Holly," he breathed, and I reveled in the spicy scent of rum on his breath. He swallowed hard, his blush darkening as he took a deep breath to say something.
But he never got the chance to say whatever it was he wanted to because a sharp rap came on the door, shattering the moment and any chance that we'd get to finish whatever had started between us.
Whatever had started the day we met.