You and Connor were very drunk, not that it took Connor much to get drunk, he had such a low tolerance, it was still rare to see him like this.

As the moonlight shines down on the Aquila, Connor laughs drunkenly, one hand on your waist and one on your shoulder, taking sloppy ‘dancing’ steps to the out of tune music the drunken crew was playing. You were pretty sure you two were waltzing to some fast sea shanty, but neither cared. It was fun.

“You’re a good dancer” he slurs, his hand tightening around your waist for a moment oh how rare a compliment from him is.