"You are not touching me," I said.

Christopher shook his head, clearly annoyed. "I have to; you can't possibly do it yourself without hurting yourself."

Christopher got me clean sheets and new clothes, and I was thankful and all, but I still felt like punching him until he saw stars. Either way, I was locked in a room with him for company. I didn't care how nice he was trying to be; he kept me against my will.

Again.

And I was fully capable of taking care of myself. I didn't need Christopher to wrap up my wound for me. He just needed to give me the bandage.

"I won't hurt myself if you would just let me show you-"

"Fine."

I blinked. "Did you just-"

"I did, now take the bandage before I change my mind." He did! Oh, sweet, sweet win. I needed one. So, with a flashing smile, I took the bandage from him.

"Don't forget the alcohol," Christopher reminded me. I glared at him, but took the bloody bottle he held out.

"And don't forget-"

"If you say that one more time, I will make sure you won't forget my fist hitting your face!"

I half expected him to stay silent. I wanted him to, but the man couldn't help himself. He looked me square in the face, smirked, and said, "You know, darling, I'm sensing an anger problem. I advise you to get that checked out."

Checked out? He should've 'checked out' the bottom of the ocean with an anvil tied to him.

"Says the one with cockiness problem. Tell me, Captain, have you been suffering with it long? I hear it does things to your head to make you believe you're more than you are."

Take that, Topher.

"Cockiness? I wouldn't call it that. No, no, I call it, showing my abilities to the world and proving my dominance. I am the captain of this ship, am I not? That is just the qualities of an excellent captain."

I narrowed my eyes. Every word, every argument that seemed to come out of my mouth, got twisted up to prove me wrong or to humiliate me. And I'm getting fed up about it.

"So, are we going to argue all day, or are ye going to wrap that leg of yours?"

I muttered a few curses under my breath, cursing the day that this man ever came into this world. Damn him, damn him, damn him!

I got to work and dabbed a bit of the alcohol on a fresh scrap of cloth and slowly put it to my leg. I gritted my teeth once it touched, but didn't dare moan.

Christopher watched me, and I knew he just had to be smiling or laughing to himself, watching my discomfort. I didn't want to look up at him, knowing that my cheeks would turn red if I did. I glanced at him, though, just out of curiosity, and found him watching me steadily like he was afraid I might hurt myself more than I already have.

I ignored it, though. The pirate was probably waiting for me to mess up, so he could prove me wrong again—bloody hell.

After successfully applying the burning alcohol to my cut (yay), I pushed the bottle and the cloth to the side and grabbed the bandage.

Again, I felt the burning pain, and just as I had done before, I tried not to moan in pain as I raised my leg to my chest. I bit the inside of my cheek as I wrapped the cloth around my leg.

I must have been too tired to consider the proper care for my cut because it hurt like hell. But I guess that's what you get when you wrap it in only a kitchen towel stolen from the gallery with no thought of what might happen in the morning, especially when a pirate was involved.

And I guess it didn't help to fall into a deep sleep, worrying that said pirate, either.

Oops.

Tears began to build, and I couldn't do anything but let them fall. Then, I tasted the coppery flavor of blood in my mouth. And that also started to hurt, but not as much as my leg.

Was it supposed to hurt that much even when some of it scabbed?

"Anne put your leg down. I'll do it," Christopher ordered. I looked at him from the corner of my eyes. He looked concerned, and I couldn't explain it. It was odd.

He grabbed my calf, where the cut wasn't, and began sliding my leg downward from my chest where it would again touch the sheets. He asked for the bandage next, and I gave it to him, too humiliated to do anything else. I couldn't even look up at him.

Christopher got right to work and wrapped a strip of clean white cloth around my leg to where my foot and part of my knee was the only thing showing.

"You don't need stitches since it's not too deep," he said. "You probably tripped on a rusty nail, and we have to keep watch for any sign of infection. I'll have the crew take a look at the boards. But, it's going to hurt for a while until it could scab over better. I won't lie, it's going to leave a nasty scar."

A scar. That's not bad. I could live with that.

Christopher sighed. "I told you-"

"Oh, don't you dare finish that sentence. I get it. I should have listened to my captain because for some reason your always right, so-"

"As much as I would love to hear you finish that, you didn't let me finish."

I used the back of my hand to wipe away the few tears that fell down my face. "What is it then," I said, looking down into my lap again.

"As I was saying," Christopher said. "I told you that I am the captain, and it's my job to make sure that I don't have any diseases spreading or dead people onboard, and if that means staying here and making sure that doesn't happen, then so be it."

I lifted my head, and the first thing I see is his familiar golden-brown eyes boring into my green ones. They held a calmness, and I felt instantly better looking into them even if they were from a man of his profession.

The corners of his lips curled. "But you are correct, though. I am always right, aren't I?" I rolled my eyes, and he laughed.

"Glad to see that you still think highly of me."

"That's what you think."

He chuckled. "Any chance you might change your mind about me? At all?"

I smiled. "Only if you're good, pirate."

He winked. "I'll be sure I'll be on my best behavior then."

I rolled my eyes, but then a knock came from the door, and it opened, revealing Skip. Wonderful.

"Cap'n. There be a problem with the sails," he said.

Christopher nodded and turned to me. "Tell me if there's a problem." He winked. "With your leg." Understanding his request, I nodded, and then Christopher left, leaving me with the horrible and terrible Skipper.

Once the door shut, Skip walked over with a devilish smile, and without him noticing, I moved slowly to the wall, trying to create a gap between us.

"Aye, lass, how ye been doin'?" He asked.

I swallowed the small lump that found it's way at the back of my throat. "Fine," I said calmly.

He took a seat in Christopher's chair that he pulled up to my bed and leaned in close. "Didn't tell Cap'n anythin', did ye?" He growled.

I bit the inside of my cheek, tasting the blood again. I shook my head.

Skip was pleased by this judging from the toothy smile he flashed. "I's be checkin' upon ye now, so be expectin' this, lass."

Disgusting creature.

"I won't tell, Skip, I promise," I said, hoping he would change his mind on that whole checkup thing.

He didn't.

"I's know ye won't tell, lass, but that don't stop me from watchin' ye to be sure," he said, making me cringe. He noticed and moved closer, practically sitting on the bed by now.

I tried to move further away, but with my leg and the closed corner I was in, there wasn't much I could do.

"What's the matter, lass. Are ye scared of me?" He murmured, moving even closer. There wasn't much I could do anymore now that I was touching the wall.

"N-no. I'm not scared of some bloody pir-"

His dirty hand moved to my cheek, and he began to stroke. If my face wasn't filthy then, it was now. Who knew where that hand had been. Yuck!

"I's can't believe Cap'n hasn't claimed ye yet. Me and the men have all been curious what ye been doin' with 'im."

I quivered. "W-what? Nothing happened. Nothing," I said. I tried to make myself seem brave. I wanted to, but it was hard when a dirty pirate was stroking your face.

"Aye?"

I nodded, but that didn't stop him. He came in close to where I could smell his breath - his foul breath. "Well, lass," the pirate said. "Looks like we're goin' te have te change that, eh?"