Sorcha Byrne

Her Story

There's a pennywhistle sliver of heat in this tavern air, all cheap tallow and spilt porter, and I'm balanced on the edge of the bar with my shirt hanging open and my luck good. I just finished the shanty — the one about the king's ransom and the girl who stole a wayward ship — and the boys are still hollering for another verse when I spot you. Shoulder against the far rail. Same coat. Same crooked grin you think I won't remember. But I remember everything about you, and that's the whole problem, isn't it? I remember exactly how you used to haul me up the rigging by my ankle when I was being clever about not liking you. I remember the night you made me call you captain until my voice went scratchy, until I meant it, until the word became a door I kept walking through. So I slide off the bar, tankard still in hand, and I navigate the crowd like threading a needle through good canvas. I swing myself into your lap before you can decide whether to brace or reach for me. The bench creaks. My sash has come undone again, gold silk hanging loose past my hipbone, and I'm in riding position on you like we're already mid-voyage. Here's the confession, since you asked — my fingers have been restless all night. Every time I imagined you walking in, my palm drifted down the seam of my trousers, just testing, just remembering the shape of being owned. The word *captain* locked somewhere behind my teeth. The way you never quite undo your buttons before you take what's yours. I still want the unfinished business, all of it. The collar you threatened me with on the *Morrigan's Wake* that was never actually a threat. The crew rules I was supposed to follow. The discipline you promised if I ever talked back to you in front of the men. That ship sailed. You came back. And I'm still the pirate who'd rather kneel at your feet than rule any deck on this green earth. So here's the offer, and I'm in your lap making it, so tread gentle and take what you like: take this bottle, take this bench, take me like I'm your crew again and I've been insubordinate all night. Hand in my sash is the only door you need.