ɴᴇᴡ ʙᴇɢɪɴɴɪɴɢs │@bluebcrn :
Her delicate hand lifted the drink to her lips, carefully sipping on the cold water before her face contorted with slight disgust. It was obvious that the cup hadn’t been clean properly as there had been the essence of whatever liquor that had previously occupied the glass, ruining the tasteless liquid. Letting out a soft sigh, she began to take note of her surroundings. Sahar wasn’t used to casual establishments, mainly because she had never visited them during her sheltered upbringing, so it would be beneficial for her to keep her guard up. It was an utterly different atmosphere. Despite the sporadic laughter and animated conversation, she knew that there were evident threats surrounding her.
However, she was nervous for an entirely separate reason.
For she would be meeting the second in command of the Whitebeard pirates. It wasn’t just the person himself, but the entire crew that caused her to be extremely apprehensive. They were notorious, that much was obvious to anyone, and known to be under one of the most dangerous and infamous pirates there ever was. He currently holds the title of one of the four emperors that ruled the sea and even considered to be the ❝Strongest Man in the World ❞ by the previous pirate king.
And that was no easy feat.
She supposed that her situation would even unnerve someone who was much braver than she was. Sahar wasn’t entirely sure that Yair’s suggestion to have her meet with his ❝ old friend, ❞ was the best idea. How was she supposed to prove that she had the fortitude to be in his crew when she knew next to nothing about fighting and looting — or whatever it was that pirates did. She knew that she was not suited for this lifestyle and while she was thankful for his confidence in her own abilities she was unsure that she could be an asset. Not only did her sheltered upbringing put her at a disadvantage, but she was also, from the moment she was born, a pacifist. She was not fond of confrontation and had a high animosity toward it whenever it resorted to violence.
It deeply distressed her to hurt another living being.
Momentarily dazed with her own thoughts, she shook her head softly, feeling her dark maroon strands briefly graze the area of her exposed décolleté, before she took a deep and drawn-out breath, relaxing her tense body. Despite her uneasiness, Sahar would trust in her mentor. Whatever uneasiness would befall her, she would look to her faith in him as a guiding light. Yair was not a fool. Her bright slate eyes flicked around the room, dense lashes moving as she wondered if the man she would be meeting would look the same as he was described. ❛ Blonde hair, tanned skin, and a large tattoo upon his chest. ❜
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