#rowanpara

He paused as she questioned who he was trying to convince. Staring at her, then grinned, before he laughed “W-What? Noo…one. I'm not trying to convince anyone. No.” Yes, he was, he wanted people to be convinced he was great. Perfect, even. The greatest person they could ever meet! He is, the greatest person someone could meet. But, now, people usually just said he was love bombing. Or. he was manipulating everyone. Was it so bad just to want to be liked, loved, even? Perhaps, worshiped for how great he really was.

Was it really so wrong to do and to want these things? As long as he didn't hurt anyone, he didn't think it was so wrong to want these things. But, regardless of never hurting anyone, he still was mistreated for showing such … obsessions? Maybe that's what they thought his needs were. Too much a burden to give him. So he had to be manipulative, he had to be love bombing. He was always up to some abusive thing, so they could rid themselves of him.

Maybe he was delusional, however. And he was just love bombing, he was just an abuser, manipulating others into giving him love, or attention. But the thought of that, hurt so much. He didn't think he was hurting people! Blinking away the sudden wateriness of his eyes, he glanced to the ground. Maybe this too, was just another manipulation he was playing. He couldn't cry over this, or she might get angry.

A grin formed on his lips, once his eyes had dried again, he lifted his head up at her question “Oh yeah! I'm great. Just great. Nothing fazes me, you know. I'm always good.” He gave a hallowed laugh “Sure. Frozen yogurt doesn't sound bad at all.” It was not easy, he had learned, to talk about these things. Or people would call him horrible things, and he would feel like a monster. He didn't want to be a monster. He couldn't help these things that he did, either.

He didn't truly understand what he was doing wrong, asking to be loved. These thoughts hurt, maybe that was the sign he always ignored, telling him he was a monster. A sharp sting hit him in the chest, and he brought a hand up, cupping it over his heart and taking a few deep breaths “Talk? About what, though? I-I'm sorry. I'm-” His heart was pounding in his chest. He thought that, if they did talk, she might see him as a monster too, that whatever he said, he was just manipulating her. He didn't want to be hated!

Jackson swallowed a thick knot forming in his throat “Maybe, what would we have to talk about? Not our feelings, right? God.” He rolled his eyes.

"No, no I 'aven't got a girl back home. I've got me a girl at 'very port." An illiterate member of the crew drunkenly replied to a question about female counterparts. Everyone had been drinking merrily, but Rowan found himself slumped on top of a barrel, nearly sulking as his sad eyes reflected from his still mug. A girl back home. The men swapped stories back and forth about the curvy, slender, brunette, ginger, blue-eyed babes each had experienced while docked or before setting sail. Every story got more extreme and less detailed as the stolen liquor filled the system of every man aboard. 

"And that's when I took up my pants and--Oi, where do ya think ya getting off too?" A slurred voice called after Rowan, but he pretended not to hear as he made his way to the bow of the ship. His legs were meant to be on a ship as the slight rocking against the loud waves didn't sway his stride. Even slightly intoxicated, Rowan kept his balance until he sat his bum on the wooden edge, straddling the side of the ship. Some would say he was crazy, but Rowan considered himself living without fear. Why be a pirate if the crashing waves flicked fear throughout one's mind? If it was to be his fate, falling into the ocean, then a fate without fear it would be.