The look on Bellamy’s face was one that amused Nova; he looked confused, but at the same time was trying to hide that fact. It was rather cute, actually, but Nova wouldn’t allow herself to actually think that. He was the enemy, the man that had allowed for the murder of her father and her brother-- her family-- and for that, she would hold no sympathy. No compassion. He was a monster, and it was Nova’s duty to take him down.
“You pirates love your facade,” she spoke in her thick accent, placing the bowl, alcohol, and rag down on the small table before running her fingers through her straight hair. Nova’s hair was naturally quite curly, but it was days like today when the humidity was especially low that it would straighten itself and become silky and smooth. She liked these days in particular, because her hair was easier to handle. It could be quite a hassle to maintain her wild curls on the open sea, especially with the wind. “It’s quite fascinating, actually. You all want to be so tough, don’t you?”
She would be lying if she said that she wasn’t surprised when Bellamy pulled her closer, but her mind worked quickly, and by the time his fingers dug into her hips Nova was already ten steps ahead of him. She knew exactly what he’d do; pull her close, try and distract her with his enticing words and large, warm hands, and then try and trip her up. That’s why when he tripped her back, she was able to make it look like she took a big blow when in reality, she landed on her hands, as if this were a rehearsed dance.
Quickly she was on her feet, grabbing her sword on her way back and pressing the first mate up against the wall, her sword pressed tightly against his neck. If she moved the wrong way, blood would come right from the spot on his neck, but she knew how to stand to make sure that wouldn’t happen until she wanted it to. “No your smartest move, Mr. Blake,” she said in a threatening tone, pressing the sword ever so slightly against his neck more before stepping away, stowing her sword in its spot at her waist.
“You’ve got a lot of questions,” she said, taking a seat before crossing her right leg over her left, gesturing to the seat across from her with a look on her face that said ‘sit now, or I won’t be as kind as before’. “And I am more than prepared to answer them, Mr. Blake. But that wound of yours is staining your clothes and quite frankly, I don’t particularly love the smell of blood. So let me clean you up, then I’ll have someone fetch your a new shirt and I’ll answer all the questions you have then. Do we have a deal?”
gamechangershow
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2087
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