Sorry for missing updates the last couple of days - I've been feeling a little under the weather ☹️
(Morgan's POV)Four days... FOUR DAYS?! I'd been asleep for four fucking days?!Was that normal? Or... Had I been drugged or something?I lay there, panic enveloping my body as I tried to feel myself.Of course, the first thing that crossed my mind was sexual assault. Did I feel anything in that area? Pain? Tenderness? Anything out of the ordinary?I lay there, completely still, just doing a mental stocktake of each and every pain or discomfort I felt in my body.To my relief, there was no pain in my nether regions, but I knew that didn't mean everything was perfectly fine. I wasn't that naive. But I kept going, trying to establish whether there might be any other signs or indications.The left side of my body ached. I'd been lying on my side for four days, so, I guess that checked out. The right side of my body burned and stung. But that was the sunburn. My head was sore too. The back, where the stitches were, was still vaguely tender, but the side where I'd felt the start of a sca
(Morgan's POV)I woke up, feeling groggy and thirsty."Water," I rasped, my throat dryer than fucking sand.Footsteps sounded behind me. The boy. What was his name again? Olli?But it wasn't him. It was another boy. A bit older. Somehow familiar.He stopped beside me and handed me the rusty biohazard tin cup of water.I reached out, taking it with a grateful, albeit trembling hand.Small sips...The boy watched me intently as I somehow managed to restrain myself, only allowing myself a couple of slow, small sips.He was in his teens, with awkward, gangly limbs and scruffy light brown hair. His skin was pale, but he had ruddy cheeks with freckles over his nose, and he dressed similarly to that Olli kid. Oversized shirt that looked like it had never seen soap in its life and pants that were being kept together by random patchwork.He seemed nervous. On edge. His eyes darting between me and the cup."So, who are you?" I whispered, wondering where the little kid had gone and who this dude
(Morgan's POV)I tried to settle in. To get some rest like the medical professional had suggested, but the boy just sat there in front of me, staring."I can't rest while you're watching me," I hissed. "Don't you have something to do?"He shrugged. "The Captain said to keep watch. I’m not to leave you alone."I scoffed and rolled my eyes. "Where would I even go? I’m on a frikken boat in the middle of the ocean."He was quiet for a moment, then tentatively asked, "Is Morgan your real name?"I rolled my eyes again, the action making my brain throb harder. "Why would I lie about my name?"The boy shrugged again. "It's just a strange name for a girl. And you are a girl. I know because you've got bosoms."I gasped in horror and tried to tuck my burned right arm over my chest to hide my boobs from his gaze."You're a very rude little boy, you know that?" I scolded him.He carried on like he'd done nothing wrong. "And why are you only dressed in your smallclothes?"Smallclothes?! Jesus Chris
(Flynn's POV)I stormed onto the deck, furious.Who the hell did the lass think she was?!Comes aboard my ship, calls me an idiot? I could scarce believe it.I marched toward my cabin, the moon casting silver light across the planks.Jasper was busy yelling at some fool on the quarterdeck, but that could wait. I needed to speak to him. I needed someone with some bloody sense."Jasper!" I called out. "To my cabin when ye’re done skinning the mangy bastard!"But I didn’t go there just yet. My eyes landed on a deckhand who was whittling a bit of wood, glancing up at me like a man hoping not to be noticed."Get Owen," I barked, glaring at him before I thundered over to my own quarters, slamming the door behind me harder than was necessary.A lantern flickered on my desk as I paced, still fuming.A minute later, Jasper strode in."Aye, Cap'n?""It's that damned girl!" I seethed, raking an angry hand through my hair. "Had the gall to call me a bloody idiot!""She awake then?" he asked, stil
(Morgan's POV)"Exposure to what? The bloody sea air?" the Captain replied with a scoff.I wanted to get up. I wanted to look him in the eye and show him I wasn't some stupid little girl who was just going to crumble and wilt because he had some dumb make believe title on this fucking sham of a ship.But I could barely move. My skin felt raw and ragged and hot, and every time I tried to shift, it felt tight and burned.I did the best I could under the circumstances, glaring up at him, my jaw set."To the sun, you idiot! How long did you even leave me out there?! Roasting like a goddamn Thanksgiving turkey! I could have died of dehydration! And I had a head injury—which you clearly saw and chose to do nothing about!" I blasted him, angry that he seemed to be so nonchalant about a situation that could very clearly have killed me.He glared at me. "Idiot, am I?" he snapped incredulously. "Well I'm not the one who lay on the deck baking like a bloody fish, am I?!" Then his tone turned soft
(Morgan's POV)The first thing I noticed was the smell. Salty and damp with something herbal trying to fight its way through.I cracked my eyes open and immediately saw a pair of big, hazel eyes staring back at me.I recoiled in surprise, but instantly regretted it. My skin felt hot and tight and the sudden movement made me feel like it was going to split open.A pained gasp slipped from my lips as I tried to lie as still as possible."Evening, Miss. Glad you aren't dead," he announced, a little too chipper for my liking.He was young. Maybe around eight or nine years old with scruffy sandy brown hair and freckles over his nose.Where was I? Who the hell was he? Something about him felt familiar, but I couldn't give him a name."Who are you?" I asked, my voice hoarse as I motioned to sit up and get my bearings, but the pain was excruciating and I gave up.God, I was thirsty."I wouldn't do that, Miss," he said, standing up quickly with a worried expression. "Old Mr Finch says to make