"Fuck!" More papers go flying off of his desk, scattered about on the ground, before he forces himself to a halt, resisting the urge to punch a hole into his desk. That or break his knuckles which would be more likely. Blood oozed from his bottom lip, bruised and stinging, and he attempts to clean it with a swipe of his tongue, applying some pressure in hopes to make it stop. Once upon a time, the taste of blood made the man cringe, despising the metallic taste, but over the years he's grown used to it. Dare he say he almost enjoys the taste of it now, if not for the added adrenaline it gives him, especially in the heat of battle. Though, in this current moment, he's far too pissed off to enjoy it, because it's a fight that shouldn't have fucking happened in the first place.
A fight that nearly got Izzy hurt. If Flint hadn't seen the bastards sneaking up on them from behind, one gun aimed at Izzy, then he would've been on the floor bleeding. And the mere thought devastated Flint. It made him furious. Sent him into a rage that aided him in the fight against the few men that had been hiding somewhere after they raided the ship. He clenches his hands, his knuckles painted in blood also stinging, as he tries to make himself calm down. If there was one thing James Flint was known for, it was his anger. His fury and his rage. It made him both feared and respected, but far more feared. And when it came as a result of someone he cared for being threatened or hurt? There was almost no stopping him.
His men had failed to clear the ship, somehow missing a passage or room that hid the four men, and they had the fucking nerve to aim for Izzy? That only added to his rage. He pushed Izzy out just before the bullet was fired and he returned fire, hitting the man between the eyes. He hadn't meant to make his care for Izzy obvious, to make it public like that, but it was possible it still went unnoticed. By most, anyway. Silver knew. Billy had his suspicions, he was sure. Izzy? Well, he obviously knew of the Captain's feelings for him. Feelings that were not unrequited. They made that known during that night. Through words and actions. A night Flint hadn't stopped thinking about. A night that, admittedly, made Flint angry because it changed things between the two of them. At first, in that moment, he thought for the better but after the interruption that pulled them apart, he wasn't sure anymore.
Because they hadn't talked about it. Hell, Izzy had barely come around him in those weeks that had passed except to talk business. But they shared looks every so often and Flint could tell Izzy was thinking about that night, too, but he was conflicted. Unsure. Terrified. And so, Flint let it be. He didn't pursue. He didn't want to make things worse for the other so he gave him his space, as painful as it was. It almost felt like... rejection, but out of respect, he didn't question it. When Izzy was ready to talk, he'd come to him. Maybe. Hopefully.
Or maybe he'd quit. Leave the crew. Something that scared Flint. He'd been the first person Flint developed real and true feelings for since Thomas, and giving into said feelings seemed to be the wrong thing to do. Even if Izzy did feel the same way in return. And he made it known today, with his actions, that his feelings for Izzy were still there, but perhaps most of the crew merely saw it as a Captain protecting one of his own. The last thing he wanted was to make it more difficult for Izzy, to make him turn away, to make him leave. Especially when he went off on his crew for failing to truly secure the ship.
FUCK.
Everything in his life was fucked it felt like. Yet he kept going. He kept fucking trying for him. Despite how fucked everything was and was continuing to be. Growling, he grabs hold of a glass on his desk and throws it at the wall, watching it shatter upon impact, glass joining the scattered papers on the floor. Good luck to any man that dare enter the Captain's cabin or even merely knock while he was in a rage. @unicornondeck
