Peeking down at her out of the corner of his eyes, he cracks a wry smile. “I’m sure I’ll manage. And I’ll try and do my best not to drool in my sleep but I can't promise anything.” Angelo had put up with far worse while attempting to sleep than having hair in his face. Sharp elbows, cold feet and even restless kicks; back when he still lived at home peace had been hard to come by, even in rest. After he had left, when sharing a bed with another had become a different affair entirely, he was no stranger to cuddling within the small confines of his own personal one-man sleeping bag. Although, sharing with a friend - with her - would be a first. Still, he was sure he was more than capable of putting up with Skyler’s pretty golden strands tickling his nose.

He’s toying with a blade of grass, gaze flickering over towards the campfire to make sure that the food isn’t burning, when the sound of Skyler rustling catches his attention. Blue eyes flicker back over to her, unable to withhold his curiosity, just in time to see her pull a bottle from the confines of her jacket, not needing to read the label at first glance to know what the tantalisingly sloshing liquid within was.

Angelo lets out a laugh, one which urges him to tilt his head back to the steadily darkening sky, before twisting himself to face her and that infectious smile of hers. “More like make it even better.” There’s a wide grin on his lips, amusement and excitement bursting like bubbles in his gut, as the alcohol temptingly glitters in the remains of the natural light. “You sneaky little… Did you hide this from me the whole time?” He hadn’t realised how thirsty he had been to let loose, to celebrate their first day of adventuring, until Skyler had teased the tequila bottle to him. Drinks with his adventure buddy never failed to disappoint.

He reaches out, fingers curling around the bottle and effectively her hand with nonchalant comfort, to tilt the bottle so he could look at the label in curiosity for the brand and spirit level. “And you got a bottle that’s like, second to bottom shelf quality! Sky, you know how to spoil a guy.” Although his voice was light, devilish with a lazy smile to boot, Angelo wasn’t all jokes; in comparison to the cheap shit he usually brought for himself, this was a real treat.

It’s while he’s leaned towards her that her stomach lets out an impressive grumble, reminding him of just how far they had walked today and just how long it had been since his last meal. Although, technically, he hadn’t even finished that one. He hoped that Volans wasn’t dying of a stomach ache back at Skyler’s boat. Her pleading expression softens him without even needing to try. “Okay, okay. Crack open the bottle then,” grinning, his hand moves from her hers to wrap around her wrist, urging Skyler to join him by the campfire, scents of their food beginning to drift over on the jungle breeze and tempting him towards an evening of full bellies, tequila fuelled laughter and her good company. “It was either them or us, so I hope you like your Carvanah well done.”

skyler dross

A pirate who steals hearts. As she whispered, their hands touching and leaning in close, Angelo couldn’t imagine a type of a pirate more terrifying than one who knew all the right tones and smiles to pull him into the depths. If he let himself sink, Skyler would snatch his right of his chest like a shiny jewel, he was sure. He’d compare it to a delirious sailor hearing a siren’s beckoning call through the mist but thought better than to risk that image; knocking it out of his brain like clapping a pesky moth between his palms, squashing the thought and pulling them out of their close proximity towards the fire, all at once.

“Somehow I think we’ll manage,” he laughed as Skyler insisted that they finish the whole bottle tonight, damned be the consequences of tomorrow. It wouldn’t be a problem, from what he’d seen when drinking with the blonde sailor she drank like, well, a sailor. He was sure he could keep up, though.

“In my defence there isn’t much else around here! Somehow, I didn’t think that Oran berries and acorns for dinner would fly. Last thing I need is to share a sleeping bag with a hangry Sky.” It was when she burst into laughter that Angelo released the grip on her wrist, his smile stretching wide at the sight of her glee, only to be pulled straight back in, his spine curving as Skyler dragged him down towards her height so she could plant her lips against his cheek. His smile softened, eyes almost closing as his palm hovered close to almost touching the small of her back, comforting warmth spreading down to his toes from the affectionate gesture.

“Liar. Everyone knows that ship captains can perform marriages. You could do it if you wanted.” He hummed inaccurately with playful confidence, straightening up as she let him go, his lips turning into something a little more teasing as he flashed her a look. Even if it was mostly for his own benefit of falling back into their normal back and forth. “But who knew the great Captain Dross would be so easily won over. Here I was, thinking that I’d need to fight off a school of wild Gyarados for your heart, when all I needed to do was serve you a hot meal.”

Carvanah tasted a lot better than he thought they would. Perhaps the right seasoning for all dishes was revenge, after all. Angelo sat close to the fire, his stomach comfortably full after devouring his share of the food; turned out he was a lot hungrier than he had originally thought. A sigh of contentment rushed out of his lungs as he finished, smiling in satisfaction as he took the tequila from Skyler’s outstretched hand, light from the moon and warmth from the campfire relaxing him before he could even put the bottle to his lips. “Tempting… But what are you going to pay me, Ms Dross?” He hummed into the container, his voice muffled and smile just peeking through as he tilts it back, tequila burning down his throat and leaving a pleasant heat in his chest.

“I’m not cheap. I’ve got a whole family to feed back home and little Timmy needs leg surgery,” he muses, lowering the bottle and passing it back in Skyler’s direction, joking words laced with unvoiced half truths. Naturally, he slips down to rest on his side in her direction, propping his head in his palm as his elbow kept him upright, lounging as their long day gives way to a relaxing night. “Though I'm curious to know what a treasure hunter would offer for three good meals a day.”

skyler dross

“Bold of you to assume I’m marriage material.” Although his voice was light, the playful retaliation was secretly the tiniest bit forced, his lips showing a ghost of a smile as the campfire steals his unfocused observation. There’s a slightly unpleasant tang on the tip of his tongue as his friend talks about an imaginary wedding to a make-believe girl; one that he knows isn’t from the tequila. “Though I’ll remember the discount offer. No take-backsies.” Honestly, even the thought of having a girlfriend right now seemed implausible. He had barely had the time to do what he wanted – to be himself – there was no room for him to do right by a girl. Even if she were ‘the one’, she’d be destined to fall through his fingers like water, no matter how much he desperately tried not to spill. Better to keep her an implausible possibility.

As Skyler continued talking that bitterness, the one definitely not remaining from his shot of tequila, burned its way right down the back of his throat like he’d taken a sip of something acidic, ruining the taste of the alcohol and tainting the mood with something regrettable. It wasn’t her fault, he knew, but the sound of her voice laced with what he thought was love and fondness for the open ocean frustrated him. She was free, like a seabird skimming the crystal blue ocean, able to go where she wanted and boldly independent enough to soar over the tallest of waves; Angelo both loved that about Skyler and felt achingly jealous over her for it.

He’s reminded of standing on a pier waiting for someone who would never return, if they were ever there at all, while other hands, small and innocently greedy, pull him back towards a familiar house that feels far too cramped.

Lounging on his side, cheek nestled within his palm, Angelo distracts himself from the coals in his gut by picking up a stick and poking at the fire; distracting himself by teasing the kindling. He needed something to take his mind off things, otherwise Sky was going to pick up on him being quiet and he wasn’t really keen on the idea of sharing. Thankfully he’s good at putting on a smile and letting the flow pull him along. He’s had too much practice. Even if ‘Fuck Hoenn’ would sound more like ‘Fuck Johto’ out of his own lips.

“At least three? Tempting, you know how to strike a hard bargain,” he manages, peering up at Skyler out of the corner of his eye, his gaze meeting her moonpool silvers and feeling his expression soften. And it was true, all of that was exactly what he wanted, adventures and a warm bed. Her company. “Now when you say adventures and a warm bed, do those go hand in hand orrrr…” His returned grin was not quite as innocent as her own. Bantering with her always made things feel a little better. A distraction he would happily fall into every time.

“But staying here does sound nice...” He muses with an air of wistfulness, taking the bottle from her and tipping it back in a gulp that is perhaps a little too generous… His mind isn’t on the taste though, nor is it really on the quantity, focusing instead on the way it trickles down his throat and dulls the open wound in his chest.

Fuck, he thinks bitterly to himself as the campfire is again source for his glossed over gaze, this wasn’t how their adventures were meant to go. He needed to get over himself. Angelo tilts the bottle again.

skyler dross

Skyler got the last words in, taking the win in their flirtatious back-and-forth, leaving Angelo to snort against the rim of the bottle in half amusement and half shock. Tequila almost shoots up his nose from the back of his throat and he has to forcibly swallow a splutter, unless he wanted his speechless defeat to nosedive into a humiliating coughing fit. Fuck her. Though that’s probably not the best internal curse to conjure up, given the circumstances of the conversation… He prepares to swallow another gulp of tequila to wipe his brain into something fuzzy and incoherent.

Suddenly the vacant ache in his chest isn’t the biggest of his concerns. He fails to hear the woman beside him, her warning falling upon deaf ears, as the comforting burn of the tequila and the flickering sparks crackling from the fire captures his attention. It’s a mistake that Angelo feels conflicted over whether to regret or not.

Angelo’s jolted out of his stupor by a force colliding into him, his world spinning from something other than the alcohol, until he’s sprawled out on his back and the bottle is pulled from his lips with a pop. Blue eyes go wide and blink up at Skyler in confusion as she suddenly appears above him, her weight on his torso and her silver eyes glaring down at him like a pair of silver daggers. There’s a set of fingers digging into his shoulder, pressing him down into the grass with a forceful push and Angelo finds himself incapable of moving, pinned down by something that went beyond just her physical strength.

“I was going to save you some,” he manages to get out with a ghost of a smile, breathed out on a distracted exhale, his ocean blues locked into looking up at her sharp expression and untamed hair. Up above, the stars he loves sparkle in all of their fascinating stories but they somehow appear fuzzy in comparison to the woman framed by the night sky, her golden hair illuminated by the warmth of the fire and her eyes glittering with something fierce, something he can’t quite place, but feels drawn to all the same. Strange. It’s the alcohol, he tells himself, that’s the reason that makes the most sense.

It’s safe to say that Angelo was now distracted from his earlier slump.

Quirking an eyebrow in amusement, he watches as Skyler remains perched atop him, looking like the picture of a champion as she decides to tip back the bottle and pour a generous amount down her throat; like she was rubbing her victory in his face with utmost satisfaction. He feels warm, his skin electric from the company and buzzing from the tequila as it mixes into a pleasant cocktail in his stomach, a soft chuckle blowing past his lips as Skyler keeps on chugging. “Now who’s being greedy?” With a smirk, his hand emboldened, he reaches up to press up against her cheek when she finally detaches herself from the bottle. For a moment he hesitates, a strand of gold tickling his fingertip, before Angelo presses a thumb and forefinger into either cheek and squeezes her face to try and make her look like a fish. “Pace yourself, idiot.”

There’s a change of atmosphere then, subtly shifting into something excitable as Skyler puts down the tequila, his hands coming to rest upon her waist. It’s obvious what she’s getting at as soon as the question is placed between them and Angelo can’t help but feel it too, never one to shy away from a little bit of jovial song and dance. “I know a few,” chuckling, he wets his lips and, should he be a braver or maybe more foolish man, his hands would maybe hold her around the middle for a little longer. Instead, fingertips gently pressing against her waist to find grip, Angelo lifts the woman off him enough so that he could swing her off to the side, freeing him to sit back up. It’s suddenly a little colder. “Okay, okay! I know the perfect one. You'll love it.”

He scoops up the bottle as he gets to his feet, throwing a wink in her direction and clearing his throat with a sip before guiding them into their first song with a sloshing sway of the tequila.

“Oh, Sally Brown, she's a nice young lady...”

song // skyler dross

It’s when he stands, his breath leaving him as words are punched out of his lungs in song, that Angelo began to feel the effects of the alcohol begin to seep in proper. Pleasant fuzziness warmed him from the inside out, his vision a little unfocused at the edges – even more so as Skyler stakes a claim within the centre point of his blues as she joins him – and a lazy smile curls at the corner of his lips; uncomplicated contentment flooding over him.

“And we rolled all night and we rolled all day.”

He continues with the shanty as a hand grips around his and the bottle, his usually decent singing voice somewhat ruined by the jolly enthusiasm he puts in; far too focused on having a good time than to worry when his melody turns rambunctious or gravely from the drink. Skyler tips the bottle to her mouth while both of them keep purchase, making it look like he was pouring the tequila straight down her throat. He doesn’t catch himself hazily staring, although he does make note of a stray drop on her lips, wetting his own as a thirst for more takes him.

“Spend our money on Sally Brown…”

Leaning his head forward, he’s about to catch the bottle as its lowered from Skyler’s mouth to quench his own parched lips, when Skyler does a sudden twirl that catches him off guard, tearing the glass away and urges him to stumble on more than his words. Tequila becomes replaced with her fingers, their bodies bumping into one another and the frown that flashed to his brow quickly fades. Golden hair fluttering, eyes alight from the fire and her pure chaotic energy, Angelo decides he’ll have another taste of the alcohol later; grinning as he’s encouraged to join her in dance even before he can feel the tug on his arm.

“Yeah, Sally Brown, she's a fine young lady!”

Encouraged by Skyler, their voices bounce off one another, Angelo punctuating on the cheers and noting her immature energy at the dirtier parts of the song with his voice trembling from laughter, too wrapped up in the fun atmosphere and intoxicating buzz to care. Then, suddenly, it all seems a little bit too much for Skyler to contain, her body falling into him and her side of the song transforming into pure giggles. Angelo’s smile widens, endeared as he unconsciously winds his free arm around her waist and holds her close to steady her as she shakes, finishing the shanty for them even though his own voice crackles with his own laughter as her joy and breath tickles his skin warmly.

“Another one.” He says without room for question, reaching down to pry the bottle from her fingertips and, finally, take another sip. Then another sneaky one to make up for his earlier distraction before dropping the bottle, thankfully gently, on the grass without accident. It'll only get in the way. “Your choice for the next one, Cap’. Just make it punchy!”

He waits until her choice of song is breathed into life and then, without warning and with a tight grip, they’re moving again. There’s a wicked grin pulling on his mouth, his blue eyes darkening devilishly, as he pulls Skyler into their next song with a much more energetic dance. Whatever she chooses, Angelo’s voice follows suit, his vocals loud and tainted with laughter as he squeezes hold of her hand and waist; leading her into skips and stumbling twirls around the campfire circle.

skyler dross

And dare to comment he did, his inhibitions and, apparently, his survival instincts already thrown to the wind. “Have I ever- How drunk are you?!” He lets out the kind of chuckle where he’s gripping onto Skyler's hand for support while his head bows towards her, trying not to keel over with a stitch inducing laugh, his mirth enhanced by the intoxication as he stumbles through a few distracted steps in their dance. “Fuck, Sky.” Angelo laughs with fond affection and resolves to suddenly spin them in the opposite direction around the fire, all sense abandoned, in retaliation for her ridiculous question. Had he ever heard ‘Drunken Sailor’? It would be harder pressed to find someone who didn’t know that one. She was such a dork sometimes…

“- in the morning!”

Joining in a beat later with the song thanks to his distraction, he throws himself back in without further hesitation, making up for lost time with enthusiasm in his punctuation, putting on a little bit of an accent just for kicks. Even though he retains the lead, guiding their direction and spins in their wild dance, Skyler’s the one who pushes him into picking up the pace, her wicked smiles and nudges goading him like they were in battling for leadership. Like she’s nipping at his heel with a dangerous, challenging glitter in those moon silver eyes of hers. His pulse follows suit. Faster and faster. Grinning right back at her, even though he knew he was falling right into her trap, Angelo obliges and swings them quicker until the girl in his arms becomes a blur of gold. He holds onto her tight in their messy, frantic, dance.

“Way hay and up she rises! Way hay and up she rises!”

This time, emboldened by her mischief and carefree from the spirits swimming warmly within, Angelo steps up the antics. As he sings the chorus, words punching out with clear devious intent, his hand drops from hers and instead joins his other arm around her waist, scooping Skyler off her feet and spinning the pair of them around – once, twice – with a confident hold despite everything. Laughing, he tilts his chin up to look at her lifted in his embrace, his lips splitting into an elated grin, as he suddenly feels a little breathless. He’s not sure what’s more addicting, the warm, carefree buzz from the alcohol or the intoxication, the ever constant craving he feels, for the sense of pure freedom Skyler emanates.

“Put him in the brig until he’s sober, put him in the brig until he’s sober.”

He carries on, out of tune and time, as he returns Skyler to the ground with a stumble from how fast they had been spinning, feet a little clumsy but his grip on her tight enough to make sure they don't fall. “Put him in the br- Shit,” he splutters out, cursing, as he bumps into her and laughs. “Until he’s sober!” Angelo continues on, lyrics interweaved with his amusement at his own fuck up, not letting it get him down as he raises her hand up high and decides to be the one to twirl – even though he has to duck down thanks to his height – under her arm.

“Early in the morning!” He pops back up and without wanting to pause, arm slipping back around Skyler, Angelo pulls her in and guides them into making another spinning trip around the campfire as the song begins to reach its climax.

skyler dross

She’s a hurricane and Angelo finds himself easily scooped up within her wanton course of destruction, their bodies gripping hold of each other once again, clinging and pushing at one another as if daring for them to keep up in their wild, perfect storm. Lips bump against his cheek for the second time that evening and something deep within whispers at him to give chase – to capture that sensation again – his eyes darkening as the beginnings of a spell starts to blur his mind and a devious wink sends a spark shooting down his spine. There’s something in her gaze that beckons him, challenging him to keep up, silver shining through the curls of golden hair like stars; he wants to chase it as it plummets out of the sky, to catch and clutch it to him. That feeling of freedom so close he can taste it.

“Way hay and up she rises!”

Then he blinks as the song knocks him out of his stupor, forgetting why he was holding his breath, as he’s lurched into a spin and he’s suddenly plummeting back to earth; drifting back into the haze of warm, intoxicating fog. Angelo laughs and grins as their world spins into a kaleidoscope of colour, plunged back into the fray, unable to spare another stray thought even if he attempted it. He’s far too busy living in the moment and all of its chaos.

“Early in the mornin’!”

They finish in an outpour of passion for an age-old shanty, Angelo keeping hold of one of Skyler’s hands as he punches them up into the air, like they were striking a pose of victory. Breathlessly he laughs, lowering their hands back down although he unconsciously maintains his grip, finally looking at his best adventure friend without her being a wild blur of blonde waves. She looks like the picture of weightlessness, with a bright smile and a sparkle in her eyes, any trace of hardships suddenly seeming like they are long forgotten. Like tragedy had not bit ruthlessly at her heels. Angelo’s hand squeezes hers. “Another.” He’d sing until his throat dried up and he twisted both ankles in dance if it meant that she’d continue to smile like this tonight.

Thankfully, Angelo doesn’t have to put himself through all that. After two more songs, one of which he doesn’t actually know and he just ends up resigning to poorly mimicking with laughter, he staggers away from the heat of the fire, dizzy with bliss and sweaty from the unrelenting dance. He flops onto the grass close to Skyler, stretching out on his back, as he trades his view of her for the night sky peeking through the leafy canopy while he catches his breath. Up above the cosmos are spinning like he’s in a planetarium, all of the stars transforming into swirling comets, transfixing blearly blue eyes as he absentmindedly stretches a hand to the sky in childlike wonder. Ah, what would it be like to be amongst them, he wants to hold onto one of those burning shards, to forever drift through the unexplored…

His reaching fingers fall, landing instead on Skyler’s head, the softness of her waves under his touch urging Angelo to sluggishly roll onto his side with a grunt, facing her again. A little clumsy from the alcohol, he brushes her hair behind her ear, grinning stupidly as his calloused digits linger entangled in the wild threads of gold. “Hey, Sunshine,” he hums out on husky vocals, eyes lazy as he stares at her unfocused, his senses primarily taken over by the warm haze. Happily oblivious to the close proximity. “I wasn't lying, you know. I'm very, very tempted. At being your ship cook or whatever, I mean... You better not have been teasing me about it.”

skyler dross