Edward, he said his name was, gave you a warm smile as he leaned against the ship's railing to speak to you — a merfolk propped up on a rock.

"You know, if you wanted legs I know a witch, seashell."

He'd been navigating these waters for a while and you couldn't help but think he looked just a bit too delicate to be a pirate.

Not to mention how he spoke, his impeccable manners and how he scrunched his nose disapprovingly at his crew's lack of them. Even if he tried, he couldn't fake the piratish accent the rest of his crew had.

He really liked how curious you were, blunt but not rude. If only he could lift you up and get you on his boat. But you were a merfolk and it would be just cruel to put you in a tank on the boat. Unless you wanted legs, that is.