Xan was woken up by dim light filling the cabin. He groaned, missing the warm golden rays splashing across the room. It would still be cold out on deck, but he needed to get up, get breakfast and hopefully start preparations for their departure.
His eyes slowly blinked open, adjusting.
That was when he saw the small body still curled in bed next to him. It was odd, he wasn’t accustomed to sharing his bed. Though he felt comforted seeing that they still left a respectable distance between them.
What he missed was that they were curled towards one another, like a flower in the window curls toward the sun. They each had a hand left a hairsbreadth away in the otherwise empty middle, hidden beneath the blankets. Even in sleep they were subconsciously reaching toward the other.
Xan thought the kid looked peaceful while he slept. His eyes were closed softly, hiding their sharp cutting gaze. His auburn curls wild and splayed across the pillows. It was oddly endearing.
Up close and in the morning light his face was much gaunter and paler than Xan originally thought. Finn’s cheeks were not quite as childishly full as they seemed before. He looked thin and frail. He had long eyelashes that rested peacefully atop high cheekbones. Deep dark circles rimmed under his eyes. It was likely he hadn’t been eating or sleeping much, even before his kidnappers snatched him and held him captive.
Even after taking blows from the ogre the day before, and whatever else he’d gone through; his nose was still perfectly straight and unharmed. But a dark mottled bruise marred his cheek and a similar, lighter marking, covered one side of his neck. The bruise on his neck would be gone in a few days but his cheek would take longer before it faded from his fair Irish complexion.
His freckles though were likely to stay, especially on board a ship bound for the sunny Caribbean.
They added to his childish appearance. They sprinkled from one cheek across his nose and to the other. They bordered his hairline and clustered to the corner where it parted. They sprinkled lightly around his mouth, some even kissing the very edges of his cupid’s bow lips. The shirt Xan had lent him was too big and hung loosely exposing his shoulder and its own smattering of freckles.
Xan knew he was staring but he’d always had an odd fascination and fixation with freckles. He’d never had any himself. None of his family did, they couldn’t freckle. So ever since he was a child it had always been of interest to him.
It was something odd and so small. It was so mundane, but he had always longed to have them himself.
His family and others had only seen them as blemishes. Yet, he found them quite beautiful and felt they gave an added charm. It was something that from childhood, had begun to set him apart from those around him.
He didn’t hold their same desires, opinions, and obsession with appearances and perfection. His family had loved him dearly, but they hadn’t understood.
As a boy he was nearly driven mad among the company his family kept. It had felt suffocating.
Though he would admit he still noticed other’s imperfections. Often guiltily noticing them first. Yet he made a conscious effort to fight back against his own innate and learned biases. Everyone was attractive in their own way, and how aesthetically pleasing someone appears cannot save an atrocious personality.
None of that was of importance now.
He slowly and quietly crept out of bed. He saw no harm in letting Finn sleep a little longer. From the look of the heavy rings under his eyes he needed it more than anyone.
He shoved his boots on, slipped out the door, and silently locked it behind him. He hated treating Finn like a captive. He still worried if the kid woke up and saw a chance to bolt, he might take it. He was afraid of what might happen if Finn stayed in Clew or was left alone again. It was extremely controlling but at least this way Xan knew he was safe and any of the crew that were already onboard wouldn’t disturb him either.
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