It’s easy to just listen to her, hands falling away as he nods, moving his arms up when she guides him. He winces, hissing as it grazes his side, but the cool air is pleasant.

There’s a feeling of panic when she tells him to stay, some visceral part of him loathe to let her out of his sight, but he doesn’t have the energy of protest, leaning back against the wall and breathing deeply. He hears her come back, and tries his best to stifle a moan as she starts to clean him. But he gropes around for her arm, squeezing it lightly.

“Always dramatics with pirates.” He smiles weakly, and his whole heart aches seeing the tears in her eyes.