[ ship ] as receiver's ship takes off, sender waves to them from the deck and watches them leave (perhaps zulace 😌)
He wasn't sure when parting between them became something that left him with an ache in his chest, one that took effort to avoid allowing to creep into his expression, clouding that easy roguish grin with something he was not ready to name. One moment he was sniping at her about her parents, bumping into her in the middle of his visits to Marine bases, and now he was slipping into the habit of lingering until her ship disappeared on the horizon, or until he cannot put it off any longer. He's the same now.
It had been less purposeful their meeting this time - same time, same place - supply runs that evolve into drinks and listening for the latest gossip, when the Carmine Pirates had stumbled into the same tavern he was occupying with the crew mates around him, soon drawn to share table space with them in the heaving location. Jostling and shuffling had led to them sitting next to each other, her arm pressed against his and an uncharacteristic silence overcoming him. Twice Deuce had looked at him with a furrowed brow, enough to spark him into life again, but on his third silence, he had been left to it, permitted his wandering mind and only occasional inputs.
He just couldn't stop thinking about the warmth that bleeds into him from their pressed arms. He knows warmth, fire dancer that he is, but this is something new. Something that doesn't burn so much as smoulders, a slow combustion that lingers like stoked coal.
It's only when the night's coming to an end that he perks up, standing to clap Jackdaw on the shoulder, ruffle Usagi's hair and offer his goodbyes constantly aware of her as he goes through the motions. The rest of his group settles back down to share drinks and begin thinking about their days ahead, while he stands idling before he follows the Carmine Pirates out. It's polite to see them off. That's what he tells himself, but he knows he's lying, knows he's following to take what time he can to keep her in his sights.
"Safe travels you lot, let's not leave it too long, eh?" he says eventually as they reach their ship, leaning on the rail that surrounds the dock. He hears the replies, but his eyes and fixed on her, on Zuly, and the edge of his mouth turns up, the smile different from that roguish grin, something tender, something almost muted in comparison but more genuine for it.
In the same moment his chest tightens as the rhythmic beat skips just once, his breath catching.
He leaves them to their disembarking routines, head turning to look towards the sea and the lull of the waves that lap against the docks, turning back as he hears the wind catch in the sails. Ace straightens as the ship begins to move out to sea, watching as the crew settle into their positions, for the voyage ahead and he catches sight of Zuly at the taffrail. Slowly, steadily he raises his hand, fingers shifting in a light wave as he holds his gaze on her.
"See you next time, sharpshooter..." he murmurs under his breath, eyes widening a fraction when he sees her hand lift in turn and a wave offered back to him. Of course she can see his lips, read the words he's saying, see the fondness in his expression.
He shakes his head once, laughing at himself as he does so, then increases the strength of his wave, standing there waiting until their ship is but a dot on the horizon for him to watch fade. Even then, he stays on the dock, watching that spot until he cannot see it any longer, lowering his hand and shaking his head once more.
"Those arrows are supposed to be for your enemies..." he murmurs, mostly to himself, that hand that had been waving coming to lay on his chest, resting atop where that beat dances in his chest.
