'Thwack'.

Jack saw the ground rise before it hit him full in the face and he sprawled over the floor. He lifted his head, winced and reached for his hat, glancing back to the doorway of the tavern.

"Next time you won't be so lucky. If I ever see you here again, I swear, I'll kill you".

"Thanks for the warning, mate. I'll bear it in mind"; Jack smiles as he brushed himself off.

Well, he thought, at least it hadn't been a complete waste of time…he gotten to down a few bottles of rum before he was thrown out and that had been useful, seeing as his drunkenness would numb the pain. He scratched his head before turning away and swaying down the road. He mumbled incoherently to himself about how he'd wished he had gotten to finish that last bottle… if he hadn't been so smashed he may have noticed the shadow forming behind him; growing larger as it crept forward…

You are left there; your mouth open wide as you step into the light radiating from the lantern in the street. You had been out walking; supposedly getting fresh air, knowing full well you just had to get out of the house. You had recently finished a very one-sided conversation from your father about how you should be married by now, to a 'fine and upstanding gentleman'. Yeah right. As if there is any man in this town that would fit that criteria.
Well, there is one. He is fine and a gentleman, you think… and a blacksmith. His name is Will Turner and he is your best friend; but ever since meeting him eight years ago, you've longed for something more to happen between you. You've been in love with him for as long as you can remember and you can't recall life before him. He's what you've been getting up for in the mornings. Every time you see him you can't help but blush and you wonder if he has ever noticed. Of course he hasn't, you think, mentally cringing at the bluntness of your reasoning. He was too caught up in his romance with Elizabeth Swann, the Governor's daughter, as he told you often enough. Eugh! Ever since they had returned from their 'big adventure', with a pirate known to most as Captain Jack Sparrow, it's all he ever talks about. His heart was set on Elizabeth and you knew you could never compete. She was perfect in almost every way. And yet at the same time, you knew he was the only one to fill that large void in your heart.
All you want is someone to understand you, to really see you… to notice you. And you thought you had found him. Obviously not.

You take a few steps forward, intending to help the stranger slumped on the ground a little way ahead. At first glance he looks fairly dangerous but you continue to watch the confrontation in front you, seeing him crawl to his feet with his hair flying around, and you smile to yourself. As amusing as it is, you are still wary as you wonder whether to offer your help to the handsome foreigner. He seems to be able to take care of himself, but as you stare in laughter as he tries to stand upright, you decide you'd better follow so as to assist him if he runs into any more trouble. You stay close to the buildings, in the shadows; and try to stifle a giggle as the mysterious man wobbles and is brought straight back down to earth… with a thud.

"Bloody walkin'", Jack cries after his legs give way beneath himself. "You know wha' I'm going to invent…shhh!" Even though alone, his finger shoots to the front of his slurring mouth, motioning 'people' only he could see, to be quiet. He quickly becomes silent after noticing a movement behind him. He doesn't turn his head, and even though he is totally hammered, his senses perk up as he hears a muffled sound.

"Damn", he whispers under his breath, all hint of rum having now vanished, "I bet he's come fer another round". He stands up slowly, holding the wall for support and after he is upright, he holds his hands out to his sides. He leaves them there a few more moments than necessary to reduce the risk of plummeting straight back down, but they soon return to their original positions; waving around in all directions as if independent from his body. He turns on his heel and continues down the street as fast as he could when drunk, and knows he must stay alert. He rounds the corner and disappears.

You continue to creep forward until you come to the spot where the man collapsed and something catches your eye. It's fairly small and round and you bend down to get a better look. Your hand reaches forward and encloses a ……bead? Although it is quite dark out in the street you are sure this is what you have found. Your fingers travel over the cool, uneven surface and you seal your grip around the item, holding it tightly.
When you look up you realise you have lost the stranger and you run ahead holding the hem of your dress to stop it getting dusty. You know your father would go crazy if you returned home filthy and you would have a hard time explaining how the once beautiful gown now looked like an old piece of cloth from a worn out rag doll. You keep running, searching for the bizarre man you followed, each breath you take, hoarse from the cold night air.

As you round the pitch-black corner at top speed you let out a piecing scream…a pistol is staring you right in the face.

"Yer come to see how far you can throw me this time, eh?" snarls the man behind the gun. "Wai' a minute…you got a high voice for such a big guy, haven't yer?"

'THUD'

"Hey…" Jack whispers as he gradually realises there is no-one in front of him anymore.

"Mmmgh", you moan from down below.

"I've frightened you 'alf to death, 'aven't I, you big whelp…" He chuckles as he pockets his gun and tilts his hat, grinning at his triumph. But then he looks down.

Arghh. You growl as you suddenly feel a sharp pain sear through your head. God, what happened? But then you prise your eyes open and it all comes flooding back… the memory helped by the enormous face just inches from yours.

Jack squints his eyes to get a better look and holds his hat as he bends down. His hair and beads flow around his shoulders and in the dark it is difficult for him to see you clearly. Finally, as his eyes adjust to the gloom and his face is as close as possible, recognition washes over him and a mischievous grin dances across his lips.

"Hello luv".

As you force your eyes to unlock, your senses are stimulated by the somewhat unfamiliar aroma emitting from the individual hovering over you. Your nose twitches as you breathe in the sweet smell of the ocean. The fresh salty fragrance is different; a scent you are not accustomed to. Your mind wonders, searching through your brain trying to match the smell to a place. That's it, you realise. The port. Whenever you need space, time to yourself that is where you go. It's your sanctuary, whether you go to get inspiration or peace and quiet; it's invigorating. It always seems to be able to refresh your mind, body and soul and your lips part to breathe in a little deeper. A sigh escapes from within, as you inhale the rich, pleasant perfume happily. After a few more breaths another odour tickles your senses, this one not as satisfying…not as pure. The musty stench of…rum?
Your eyes open a little wider, curiosity flashing across your face. And then you see it…him. The first things that you notice are his piercing, black eyes shimmering in the velvet glow of the lanterns. His pupils; like swirling pools and you feel that if you stare into them much longer, they'll drag you into oblivion. You blink a couple of times as you realise that it is not his eyes that are so dark, more the deep charcoaled area around them. It was attractive, inviting. Hypnotic. That's probably the reason you just lie there, directly beneath this handsome man. Your cheeks explode with a crimson colour and you quickly lift your hand to cover your face, totally embarrassed. You silently thank God that it's night-time. At least the stranger didn't see you blush.

"Don't mind me luv," the man floating above you winked, "just enjoying the view". Obviously you weren't as lucky as you first thought.

"Uh…let me…er…if you could help…" you whisper, flustering, not lifting your eyes to meet his. But you didn't need to finish your sentence because when you finally look towards the towering stranger, his hand is outstretched, awaiting your palm. You notice his calloused skin, fine black marks tracing the rough lines in his palm and along his fingers. Adorned on several of these were rings of different sort, size and colour. You look to his offering and then up to his face, at his crooked smile. When you lift your hand towards his, his grin widens revealing a number of gold teeth. Normally this would disgust you but seeing them paired with his striking face, they weren't bad. In fact you kind of liked them…they suited his roguish style.

As you slowly stand up, gathering your thoughts, you carefully rearrange your dress, trying to make it cover most of the newly exposed skin. You quickly take your hand from his and step back from the stranger. At first you keep your head down, not really knowing what to say, as he just stands there, replacing his hat.
After a few moments of awkward silence you feel his eyes boring into you. You cautiously raise yours but merely far enough so that you can study him through your eyelashes. You pray he doesn't notice you staring. Now you can really see him, the man standing directly in front of you. And what a sight!
Your eyes travel over the planes of his face, taking in the delicate beauty of it, the haunting splendour of it stirring something deep inside you. You mentally trace the contours of his face, rough around the edges; and you wonder if it is wisdom that you can see etched into his skin. The slight glow from the lantern in the street casts eerie hollows across his features and you realise how wondrous he looks. You follow the sinuous curve of his neck and your eyes fall upon his hair. Its unruly attitude forces your lips to curl into a small, concealed, smile and you continue to trail its extraordinary journey. Looking deeper through your eyelashes, you come upon his extensive black dreadlocks and you admire the way he has hidden various beads of assorted nature throughout. Gazing at the stranger you glimpse at his hat, brown and weary and veiled beneath, a blemished maroon bandana trying to bring some order to his uncontrollable locks. Although you know you have been staring you cannot break your gaze; and your body soaks up the precious moments you have to truly admire this man.

Charm seems to radiate from him. Studying the slow rise and fall of his chest, you notice his clothes. Quirky yet stylish but like nothing you have come across before. Come to think of it, you haven't seen anyone like him before. His tainted cream shirt billowed slightly in the cool night breeze and you suddenly notice that part of his chest is revealed. His smooth tanned skin leaves nothing to the imagination and you lower your eyes as you feel the annoying hot flush spread across your cheeks again. You notice his sash, red striped and then his belt. Old weathered brown; and holstered to his side is his pistol. The same one that had been shoved in your face a few moments ago.
You breathe out deeply, relieving your lungs from the pressure that had been building ever since you had held your breath. You had not even realised you had done so but you hadn't wanted to move a muscle for fear of shattering the picture in-front of you. One little breath and you might have blown him away.

"Are you waitin' fer something, luv, or are yer just enjoying the view?" The voice resonated through the small space separating the two of you and pierced through the walls of your mind, jolting you back to reality.

"Excuse me?" You ask, your tone thick with incredulity at the directness of his inquiry. All hint of wonderment had now gone from your voice.

"No need ta be sorry, luv," Jack obviously had no idea you weren't apologising to him and his eyes lit up as he continued, his arms moving to his hips in an almost camp manner, "I get that reaction a lot, ye know. I mean come-…" But Jack was cut short as he heard the shouts and screams from the men charging down the street.