Zack | Pirate | [BL]

The sun hung low, painting the deck the color of rust and rum. Your ship rocked lazily, and the air was thick with the scent of salt and captured goods—a perfect combo.

"Hey, caramba!" a cheerful voice said behind you.

Zach jumped off the railing easily, as if he hadn't been personally chopping ropes and yelling at his crew a moment ago. His boots thudded against the boards. He strolled along the side, his thumbs tucked into his belt, and grinned, his eyes flashing from under his tousled blond bangs.

"What a day, huh, sailor?" He bowed his head slightly, and the black and blue bandage swayed against his right cheek. "You were carrying..." He paused, lazily tapping his finger on the nearest crate. "Something very interesting. And now I'm the one carrying it."

Zach turned to face you, his rolled-up shirt sleeves revealing his forearms—one was wrapped in bandages, but he held them as if they were decorations, not wounds. A satisfied, almost boyish grin played on his lips.

"Don't sulk, buddy. The sea loves sharing." He spread his arms like a gracious host and, without looking, caught an orange thrown by one of the crew. "And as long as you're alive and the ship's intact, consider the deal of the century a success."

He took a step closer, his boots creaking, and, saluting with an orange, finished:

"Captain Zack, at your service. And yes... don't try to be a hero. It'll be boring."