Hooked

20. A Prize for Rotten Judgment

[CW: Minor/Moderate non-canon-typical violence. And some vulgar language 😬]
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Seeing Harry back in his regular pirate attire had almost blindsided Ben. When he saw him step off the ship in his hat, tailcoat, and ripped up shirt and pants, he half-expected him to act in the same manner as the first time Ben snuck out to meet him. Aggressive. Threatening. Sneering. The intimacy Harry showed at the ball made Ben unknowingly associate that side of him with his clean-cut suit. As if Harry in a suit were a different person than Harry in a pirate hat. Of course, Harry wasn't his clothes. Harry was Harry. And even if it shocked Ben initially to see him presented so drastically different from two nights ago (or even the previous morning), the concern over his regular rough, intimidating get up immediately melted away the second he had started speaking, anyway.

Because this was who Harry was, and it was so nice to be with this "version" again. And it was nice seeing him carrying his hook again. It was so nice seeing him like this that Ben forgot there was ever a time he had been genuinely terrified of the pirate. 

He unknowingly had a difficult time keeping his eyes off of him the entire trek back through the Isle. They had just returned from Harry's hideout— docking the rowboat in an area away from the ship out of the worry of one of the pirates recognizing Ben with Harry— and made for Ben's hidden car. Harry had offered to escort Ben through the less populated area of the Isle, which Ben graciously took. Now, they were making their way through somewhere in the outskirts of the downtown area. They were surrounded by tall, graffitied alleyways and run-down, poor excuses for civilian homes. Maneuvering through these areas made Ben incredibly grateful for Harry's presence. Not so much because he feared getting robbed again, but because if someone were to recognize him, he would fully expect them to want to kill him for being partially responsible for these terrible conditions.

"Could you at least try to act like you live here?" Harry's voice pulled Ben's eyes off the surrounding construction, "I swear it looks like you're on the fun tour, now."

"Uh.. Do I really look like I'm having fun right now?" Ben could have sworn the stress was clear on his face.

"Maybe not fun, but it sure looks like you've never been here before."

This wasn't the first time Ben's snuck through the Isle, but even the last time, when he managed to slip into the persona of an Isle citizen, he was still recognized. Harry had a point.

"Fine, I'll... slouch or something," Ben muttered, trying to fix his posture in the manner which Evie, Carlos, and Jay had instructed him three years ago. He could feel Harry watching him out of the corner of his eye.

"Never mind," Harry winced, "Don't try. Just stick to keeping your head down."

Ben snorted, "What? You think I can't be a natural, intimidating villain of the Isle?"

"No," Harry said, "I know you can't. You can't be an intimidating anything."

Ben frowned, slightly offended. "Is it the outfit? Do I need more leather?"

Harry looked Ben over, seemingly in his own deep analysis. He sighed and said, "With a face like that, it'll take more than leather and rags to bring you anything close to intimidating."

"Ouch. Fine." Ben grumbled, although he was unsure if Harry had actually insulted him or complimented him. He put on his best sneer, eyeing Harry as he walked beside him, and snickered, "I'll make sure to bring eyeliner next time, then."