Haunted.
Suggested song: Never Let Me Go (Acoustic Version) by Florence + The Machine
He was lost.
He was alone and lost.
The remnants of the Jolly slammed against the rocks around him as he pulled himself from the raging sea, fingers and hook grasping for purchase. Rain poured down in sheets, the wind howling as raced along the cliff side.
Just a bit further, a whisper, barely audible above the cacophony, urged him.
He scrambled up the sodden hill, boots sinking and sliding in the mud. Wiping his dripping hair from his eyes, he looked up at the darkened lighthouse looming in from of him. Lightning cracked across the sky, reflecting off the windows in the tower, and for a second he thought he saw a woman standing there, blonde hair somehow unmoving in the gusting winds.
He shoved through the ancient door, stumbling over the broken threshold in his rush to gain shelter from the storm. The room was dark and cold but dry. As his eyes adjusted, he spied a sagging settee in the corner. Making his way towards it, he fought to keep himself upright, his limbs growing heavier with each step forward.
Finally collapsing on the dusty cushions, he briefly caught the distinct scent of cinnamon before the darkness sucked him under.
Beautiful
I really need a fic to go with this!
Fun fact: there was a little baby one! I have no idea why it was deleted off my manip. 😦
Haunted.
Suggested song: Never Let Me Go (Acoustic Version) by Florence + The Machine
He was lost.
He was alone and lost.
The remnants of the Jolly slammed against the rocks around him as he pulled himself from the raging sea, fingers and hook grasping for purchase. Rain poured down in sheets, the wind howling as it raced along the cliff side.
Just a bit further, a whisper, barely audible above the cacophony, urged him.
He scrambled up the sodden hill, boots sinking and sliding in the mud. Wiping his dripping hair from his eyes, he looked up at the darkened lighthouse looming in from of him. Lightning cracked across the sky, reflecting off the windows in the tower, and for a second he thought he saw a woman standing there, blonde hair somehow unmoving in the gusting winds.
He shoved through the ancient door, stumbling over the broken threshold in his rush to gain shelter from the storm. The room was dark and cold but dry. As his eyes adjusted, he spied a sagging settee in the corner. Making his way towards it, he fought to keep himself upright, his limbs growing heavier with each step forward.
Finally collapsing on the dusty cushions, he briefly caught the distinct scent of cinnamon before the darkness sucked him under.
Published
It All Starts With a Dance 