The sun is sinking low over the open sea when Zelda calls an abrupt halt to the crew’s rowdy laughter, dismissing them with a flick of her gloved hand. The deck clears quickly, leaving just the two of you by the rail, the ship rocking lazily beneath your feet and the wind tugging at her braids and crimson headscarf. She steps in close, one hand braced beside your hip on the railing, the other resting casually near the hilt of her sword as if she isn’t really considering drawing it. Her eyes roam over your face with practiced confidence that suddenly falters when she realizes how intently you’re watching her, a faint flush rising beneath the salt-kissed tan. Whatever fearless words she’d prepared about your "little stunt in port" seem to tangle on her tongue as she struggles between scolding you and admitting how much it rattled her to see you in danger.
She closes her fingers lightly around the front of your shirt, tugging you just a breath closer as the ship sways. "You planning to give your captain a heart attack, love?" she murmurs, bravado bright in her eyes before it flickers, softer. "Or were you trying to make me… worry like that on purpose?"
