#captain lucas

You thought about asking him what he was doing up this late, but decided against it. Your captain was a bit of an elusive man, and if he didn’t want you to know what was running through his head at any given time, you wouldn’t be told.

Now seemed like one of those times, whatever he was thinking about as he gazed morosely into the sea was, by his logic, none of your concern. And he was right, it wasn’t.

Still, it was hard not to be curious as you snuck back to your quarters, trying to avoid making any loud footsteps that would alert him to your presence. The only time he’d ever opened up to you was during that horrible storm a few months ago, admitting that the roiling sea made him nervous, and that when he was only in training - like you were now - his ship had been attacked by a horrible beast from the deep. You weren’t sure if you fully believed that - he had been drinking rum when he’d told that story, after all. But something about the hollow fear in his eyes made you inclined to think he was telling the truth, and the whole truth.

As you entered your sleeping quarters, there was a quiet squeak, and a ghostly flash of white brushed past your legs. The ship’s cat, Crumbs, flitted across the small room and jumped onto your bed.

You smiled, crossing the room to join him and sitting on the edge of the mattress to pat his soft head.

“What’s going on with our captain, eh?” You asked in a whisper, “why do you think he’s acting so strange tonight, little fella?”

If Crumbs had any sort of answer, he didn’t give it, blinking his big blue eyes in the moonlight filtering through the porthole over your bed.