He was handsome, from what I could see of his face. A heavy linen hood covered most of it, yet his chin slanted in a way that suggested handsomeness. He was wet, panting, and standing on my balcony in a thunderstorm. Normally, a woman would scream seeing a hooded man standing on their balcony at night. But I heard the loud thump from the landing and not two seconds later the Spanish guards were yelling, "a donde se fue?", "Por Aqui!", "lo mataré" in the distance.
Anyone running from the Spaniards was a friend of mine.

"Come inside," I said softly, opening the latch of my window.

Piercing blue eyes snapped to my face, his expression revealing that he didn't know I was there.

"Trust me, get in before they climb up here too." I didn't need to tell him thrice, the man almost shoved past me in his haste to get inside, narrowly brushing past my shoulder as he limped into the parlor that I rented. After the latch snapped shut and throwing the curtains closed, I turned to see the mysterious man collapsed in my only wooden chair by the fire place. He gripped his left leg as blood oozed from a stab wound.

"I don't normally accept kindness from strangers," his welsh accent rasped, "but in this case, I fear I have no choice."

"Don't fret, I only bite those who cross me."

His hood lifted as he tilted his head back, revealing his features to the light, his Adam's apple prominent as he gave a dark chuckle. He was handsome in that devil-may-care sort of way, the bridge of his sharp nose suggesting a break from a fist fight.

"Let me patch you up."

"Thank you, my lady, but I'll be fine."

"Right, so I'll just let you bleed out on my parlor and when the guards come to find you, they'll send me to the gallows for aiding and abetting, hm?"

"… I hadn't thought of that."

"Probably because all the blood is leaving your brain."

He gave another deep chuckle at my joke while I bent over his leg with some surgeon scissors, "I'll sew the pant back up again I just need to look." The man grunted but didn't move from where his head was facing the ceiling, but I got a distinct feeling that his eyes were watching me still.

"So what's a woman like you doing in a place like this?"

Of course, he's a flirt.

"Well these are my apartments, that ought to be obvious."

His eyebrow quirked in a way that suggested he could be merciless to me but was too humored to do so.

"You're lucky I find sarcasm a charming trait in women."

I scoffed. "I'm not lucky."

"Hmm, plucky more like," he smirked before turning his head to look into the fire place, "most women wouldn't let a pirate into their home."

My hands stilled over his leg, the wet rag in my hand dripped over his wound as I cleaned it.

"I always wondered when I would finally meet a pirate in Havana."

"You probably already have," he smirked, "but I doubt you've met one like me."

"Ah, so he's arrogant as well!"

"Only when I need to be!"

"Which I assume is always?"

"… I won't deign to give an answer you already know."

The smile crept along my face before I could stop it. He was witty. I stopped cleaning the wound and moved to my kit that always sat by my shabby wardrobe.

"The wound is too deep not to be stitched up, but I must apologize, I don't keep any alcohol so it will probably hurt."

"I can bite my tongue."

"Oh, another thing that I'll have to fix after stitching you up?"

"No worries, my lady, I have had stitches many a time."

I bit my cheek as he called me a lady again and opened the medical bag, pulling out the sterilized needle and thread. I'll have to buy some alcohol in case this situation ever arose again. I should've thought of that.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, forgive me, my mind was wandering."

"So where are you from, my lady?" He was making small talk as I held a needle to his flesh… interesting.

"London, and I am not a lady."

"A beautiful woman from London who isn't a lady? Unheard of."

"Call me a fallen angel then."

"A fallen angel in Havana," he smirked, "fitting."

"Humming in acquiescence, I turned to my needle work, tying off the thread to close the wound. I could feel his eyes staring at me again; analyzing.

"That's it then," I put my needle on a porcelain plate I left out earlier. I'd need to clean it and put it back in my kit later.

"I suppose, I shall see myself out then," the pirate said, standing up and brushing off his trousers.

"Oh! I forgot! Let me sew up the tear I made."

"No matter, my lady, I'll be heading back to my ship."

"your ship?"

"Aye, my ship." The man's toothy grin told me that something about how I said 'your' amused him. I was stunned into silence as his grin highlighted his devilish features. He was truly attractive.

"Well, I suppose we may never meet again and with that I take my leave." He said, quickly turning the latch of my window and slipping out. He was gone in a blink of an eye.

"I never got your name."

Lightening crashed, lighting the empty room in white light.