A Somber, Hopeless Night
Summary: Jack Sparrow's last few thoughts before drifiting off into an uneasy sleep.
A cool breeze swept in through the open window as Jack lie in bed. His bride, Giselle, rested quietly beside him, her beauty as that of an angel shimmering in the dim moonlight. He, although, was unable to sleep, for and endless chain of thoughts plagued his mind. In honestly, his body was the only part of him that lied in that bed, for his heart was aboard his true love, The Black Pearl. He tossed under his satin sheets, trying so desperately to pull his mind away from the smell of the sea air and the feeling of freedom the Pearl had once pleasured him with. Frustrated with his insomnia, he sprung out of bed and solemly gazed out his window.
This had been the third night where Jack stayed awake. This was, indeed, the third night he stared out into the cool night, questioning himself. Why did he ever give up his ship to settle down? Why had he, the great Captain Jack Sparrow, sacrificed one true joy in life? For love? No. Not for love. Upon his thinking, he turned to gaze at Giselle, who remained resting peacefully, half smiling in her sleep from dreaming of her and Jack's future together. Jack could not help but carass her soft blonde curls that lay surrounding her delicate, lily white face. "So beautiful," he thought, as his eyes traced her curves. For a moment, he pulled his eyes away from her to gaze around his room. It wasn't all that extravogent; there were a few pieces of furniture spread out, a soft rug, and a pile of half-empty bottles of rum off in the corner. Half-empty. He couldn't even bring himself to drink the whole bottle.
Something was wrong.
He turned to stare out the window for one last time before attempting again to battle his restlessness. Beyond where he was, was a magnificent view of the Ocean; the waves lapping onto the sand, as if calling to him. He couldn't help but remember all his past adventures. The trips to Tortuga, the endless arguments with Ana Maria, the battles that nearly cost him his life. All of it seemed so long ago...
With a half-sigh and slight yawn, Jack lay back down, hoping the gentle sounds of the harbor outside would ease his mind. He closed his eyes, and awaited sleep. And when he finally reached peace, he slumbered with dreams of once again sailing under that black marked flag, acting as the drunken captain he was known and loved (or, in some cases, despised) to be.
Of course, he knew, those days would never return.