When I first saw him, I noticed his eyes. Like chocolate you melt in a pan on a cold winter day, they stood out the most in his handsome face. His hair is like pitch, moving like a beautiful, galloping black stallion. His nose is a sharp arrow, and his jaw is strong and powerful. Even though his body ripples with hard muscles, his face has soft touch to it. His mouth is a delicate pink, not fitting in with his dark features. His lips almost like a cherub's, innocent and soft, perfect for whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

He was laughing with friends, his laugh loud and even, and it made you want to laugh too. His torso was devoid of clothing, but not of a large Jolly Roger I knew all too well. Whitebeard's Jolly Roger. A pirate, that's what he was. A heartless criminal, like Papa told me in so many stories. But still I wanted to laugh with him, and see his chocolate eyes up close. I like chocolate, and I had decided I liked him already, even though Papa warned me about pirate men.

But his chocolate eyes focused on me, and he smiled. Shyly, I smiled back, and hurried back home, to Papa who was waiting for his cigar. I looked back, and all I saw was the large pirate symbol. I was hoping his crew was staying here for a while. Just as I was about to near home, the loud, ringing alarm of the Marines bellowed. Hurriedly I ran to the docks. Papa was going to arrest him with his men! They moved like well-trained hunting dogs, tracking down a small rodent. But these men were as far as you could get from those.

My skirts got dirty in the mud, the fragile lace my grandmother worked on so dearly tarnished. A pretty ship, with the large front of a whale smiled at me. So did he. And as the Marines streamed in and started firing, I tripped into the sea. Large powerful waves soaked themselves into my clothes, and I sank. My feet kicked, but water got into my lungs and I couldn't cough it back where it belonged.

The salt was stinging my eyes, but powerful hands wrapped around me and I was brought back to the pretty blue sky of this summer day. Instead of Marines looking at me, I saw faces; slightly familiar from the issued bounty posters I had seen in Papa's office.

"It's the girl we saw in town today." One of the men said.

But the water wanted to go back to the sea, and so I jolted upwards and it streamed out of me. Strong hands patted my back, and I replaced the salty water with tangy sea air. Then I realized my home was nowhere in sight, and I tried to stand up and make sure. My heavy, water-drenched skirts weighed me down, and I couldn't get up. I needed those stupid skirts, I couldn't get rid of them.

I hoarsely tried to cry out, but my voice didn't work. I looked around at the people who had saved me, and back into the chocolate eyes. Fear came back and I pathetically crawled away from them. These skirts were such a pain. Never before had I been this far from home.