"I already sorted through them beforehand," she said, waving her hand dismissively, "The stuff I want to keep on in those two trunks." She pointed to two worn-out looking trunks, beneath a few cardboard boxes. "Anything besides those two is fair game. Don't worry about everything right now, just enough to get started."
A lot of what she had to sell was remnants of her past life, a life she wanted to forget. It had been hard to part with them a while ago, and she refused to do that when she first became a pirate, but now she found it less painful to part with her stuff—for the most part. There were a few personal things that she had to keep to herself.
Hugh picked up every box she had left out with no issue and walked off in the opposite direction of the pier. White scrambled after the giant, stuck to the man's side like glue.
"Well, I think I'm gonna go get some drinks," Ming said, walking into the bar with Johnnie.
Once again, Anthony and Rosia were left alone and he could reveal how bad his knees were hurting him.
"I really hope Hugh comes back soon," he mumbled, wincing heavily when he took a few steps. "I don't know how much more I can take."
She sighed and unceremoniously hooked a finger around the collar of his shirt, pulling him over to the edge of the street and make him sit down with her. "Are you going to make it?" she asked softly, looking over at him with concern as she made herself comfortable on the sidewalk, arms braced against her knees once she let him go.
"Do I have a choice?" he asked, raising an eyebrow over at her. He leaned back on his elbows and let out a small sigh. "As long as there are no hills, I should be fine. I hope."
"You can lean on me, y'know," she said, lightly nudging him before leaning over and resting her chin on his shoulder, one leg stretching out as she closed her eyes.
"Yes, I am aware of this," he said softly, leaning some of his weight against her. "I think White and Hugh are a bit more than just friends. White follows the man around like a lost puppy."
"Busybody," she accused with a playful murmur, cracking open an eye to look at him with an amused gleam in her eye. "Did you learn to stick your nose into people's business back home?"
"No, I learned it from you," he shot back, matching her playful tone as he nudged her with his head. "I actually kept to myself when I was at home."
"I'm sure," she said, sticking her tongue out at him. She then settled herself more comfortably against him, wrapping an arm around his waist as she closed her eyes again.
"Even with us being separated from our previous crew, you still act very distant when the others come around," he pointed out, leaning all of his weight against her, now. "Why is that?"
I wouldn't say very distant," she muttered, then sighed as she opened her eyes enough to look down at her lap. "I honestly don't know. Old habits, maybe? My mother was never affectionate with my father whenever there were guests around, or even servants. I guess I just unintentionally picked that up." She paused as she sought out a different solution. "Or perhaps it's something else, I don't really know."
"Toughness, perhaps?" he mused, reaching up and tapping her chin. "You're the one who's gonna be running the show. Can't be showing weakness, even for someone as dashing as me."
She snorted. "Dashing, he says. The cripple." She then made a show of looking up at him and swooning. "Oh, Anthony dearest, however will I keep myself from you, the one and only, irresistible man of my dreams?"
"It is a miracle you lasted as long as you did," he said with a grin, leaning down and planting a kiss on her forehead. "And I am not crippled. I am healing. You make it seem as though this pain will last forever."
"Hmmmm, if you keep being stubborn, it will." She scrunched up her nose when he kissed her. "Do you want me to try and stop being so distant? You seem to like being affectionate." She wasn't speaking in an accusatory tone, more like a curious one with a slight bit of humor.
"I suppose I am an affectionate fellow," he said, his smile growing at her reaction to her kiss. "It's whatever you think is best, Rosia. I was merely pointing out an o-"
"Who the fuck is Rosia?" White asked, looking over at the two with a confused expression. Him and Hugh had already made their way back to the two, carrying small bags of coins with them. How the noise didn't alert Anto, he had no clue.
Rosia sat up with barely any reaction to White's interruption, though she was still slightly started. She hadn't heard them coming, a side effect of being with Anthony. "Me," she said smoothly, standing up and stretching out her arms. "I'm not who I say I am. Once we secure some rooms and we're all sober," she added with a pointed look at White, "I can tell you almost everything."
"It might take a while for that," Ming said, happening to be dragging Johnnie out of the bar. She looked drop-dead drunk, despite only been in the bar for about 45 minutes. "She's a light weight. Are we ready to go, now?"
(I'm unafraid to bump this again)
((too bad, I'm working on something else rn))
(I'mma do it a third time)
Rosia nodded, glancing at the gold they now have. "I'd still suggest sharing rooms to save money. I'm sure none of us have a problem with that?" She rose a brow, looking at each of them in question. She already had an idea of who would room with who, and she had no qualms with that arrangement.
