If you'll be my star, I'll be your sky (Pirate!Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 7

It was the sort of laughter that Harry had never heard. He’s heard ironic laughter, uproarious laughter, and hearty laughter.

But joyous laughter?

He had no recollection of hearing anything as sweet as the sound that bubbled up from Louis’ throat. His soft, overwhelming sound floated over the ship. It added harmony to the lively notes of the fiddle that a crewman was playing.

They were all celebrating Zayn’s 19th birthday. The cook had made pudding. As the sun began to set, the wind calmed.

Most of the men were on the deck. A few of them ventured to dance with Louis. It was the reason for his laughter. He stole the spotlight, respectively, from Zayn. He didn’t seem to mind in the least as he watched fondly from the side as Louis was dancing merrily with his current dance partner, who was exaggerating his steps, acting the fool, and making Louis laugh all the more harder. Erupting another richer laugh from him.

Not that Harry would blame him. He thought he might do almost anything to be the one responsible for releasing that sweet, intoxicating sound.

But he had yet to know how to make him laugh, like that at least. When Louis was with him, he was most often serious. For more than a week now, he’d been teaching him to fight. He would teach him how to use the cutlass to draw a man near enough to stab him.

Harry had a couple of “scratches” to serve as proof that Louis was learning quickly and well. Louis did like to play dirty.

Louis’ eagerness astounded him, as did his natural gift for the unexpected. Louis was small, and more than once Harry underestimated him. Louis would trip him, or move out of the way briskly with fresh skill.

And of course, Zayn was watching, as always. Making sure he doesn’t somehow foolishly try to escape.

Harry noticed Zayn talking to the man playing the fiddle. Suddenly, the tempo of the music shifted to something slower, softer. Louis stopped dancing. Harry could see his chest rising and falling, trying to catch his breath, his cheeks pleasingly flushed, bright irises glimmering. Harry cursed to himself at the sight.

Zayn moved closer to Louis and held his hand out: an invitation. Harry didn’t like it – of the way Zayn gazed at Louis in admiration for being exceptionally celebrational for his birthday. He didn’t fancy how Louis blue eyes sparkled. The way the crew moved aside to give them more room, accepting them of their upcoming dancing. As if they expected it. Both male or not. Or it was just the manner in which Louis placed his hands in Zayn’s.

And then they were dancing. Something smooth. He held Louis hand up and they circled. Both amusingly, and seriously leading one another. Then they switched hands and circled the other way, all the while holding each other’s gaze as though nothing was quite mesmerizing.

Harry was caught off guard by the spark of jealousy that ignited. And, the bitterness that followed, because he didn’t have the knowledge required to dance with him. He didn’t have the skills; he didn’t have the education to fit into the posh society.

At moments like this, it became even clearer what his permanent title was. A pirate.

“Looks like ya wishin to be dancing with him.” A voice whispered.

Niall. Since their chat below decks he and Harry had met up on occasions, but all in secret, trying to escape from Paul’s watchful guard was usually difficult.

“Why don’t you run away somewhere else?” Harry grunted.

“I had to be convincing – make them think I wanted nothing to do with ya.”