Authors note: Thanks to everyone that left comments. About the length and long updating time, I can only say one thing. The stupid thing just won't write any faster, and the stupid drabbles just insist on being short. I can hold on to them until I've got a few done and then post…if that's what you'd like, just let me know. So, yeah, I apologize for the shortness and slowness, but hope you enjoy all the same. Also went back to the more poetic (hopefully) mode in this one and hope I achieved it. And finally – we're getting somewhere.
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Sometimes it feels like she's burning from the inside out with frozen flames.
Not often, of course. Elizabeth Swann doesn't spend hours analyzing her feelings and filing them into neat and labeled cabinets. Wouldn't know what to call each one, or how to organize them, for a start. But sometimes, when the sun's rays caress her skin and waves splash on the shore of Port Royal, she remembers a different beach. Remembers white sand littered with broken glass reflecting little rainbow beams across the water. Remembers, though heaven knows she tries not to, husky pirate song, carried by the breeze in a comforting melody of feeling.
And then she burns.
It never lasts for long. Smolders into warm sparks moments later, no matter how hard she tries to bring it back. But somehow she knows, that it could stay forever. Could become her, the very core of her being, if only-
There were no if only's. There was only now, and what she could make of it. It was time to grow up and let go of silly midnight dreams.
Elizabeth Swann rose from her window (peas in a pod, love) and drew down the curtain.
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