He was a new face but she’d been raised on the stories. Some were half truths, other complete lies, and some were too absurd not to be true. Still, she much preferred the versions he told, which were more vexed rants that didn’t quite follow the normal structure of stories but she listened anyway.
While he wasn’t a regular by any means he still showed up every couple days with a scowl and new words. Once an entire week had gone by but he’d always show up before that voice in the back of her head went into worried mode.
Of course, now, Milah hadn’t seen the infamous Captain Hook for two weeks. Two. Weeks. Over fourteen days. While the pirate owed her nothing it still annoyed her how she would keep an ear out for tales of his demise or how her stomach would clench at closing time.
Then one day, there he was as though nothing had happened. Relieved at first it was crushed under the weight of absolute annoyance. She ignored him at first, only serving him because the others were actually afraid of him. For good reason, perhaps, but she’d always been a bit reckless. So she slammed his plate on the table and the force she used to set down his tankard caused the foam of his ale to slosh over.
“I’m glad to see you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere, Jimmy.” She’d never called him that but figured it would annoy him to no end. Good. Then they’d be in good company.
