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If you'll be my star, I'll be your sky

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Louis Tomlinson didn’t know what terrified him more, the sharp edge of the dagger against his throat or the ruthless glare of the pirate who shoved him against the wall. "Hush or ill cut off your tongue."

That glare, Louis thought, belonged to a young man. He was breathing heavily, since he just ran down the stairs into the ships hold only seconds earlier.

A thin scar painted his face across his right cheek. It failed to distract Louis from what was a devilishly handsome face expected in a London ballroom, but here in the open water of the Caribbean it created the frightening appearance Louis had ever encountered.

The young man covered his head in a dark red scarf, his hair slightly long, however neatly pulled back with a few brown curls fixed on his frame. A small gold earring twinkled from his left earlobe.

Louis didn’t think he was much older, nowhere near his age of nineteen. He suspected seventeen? However, his dark green eyes were more mature. In spite of the heat, chills cascaded along his tan like skin. He knew any sum of compassion wasn’t in his nature.

He was a pirate after all. Ruthless like those barbaric pirates who attacked the ship.

Louis had been traveling on the Delilah with his father. King George had assigned them to take a small island in the Caribbean and make Louis' father the governor. Louis thought it would be an appropriate trip for him and his father since the recent death of their mother, who succumbed to a fever. Louis was somehow grateful to have an excuse to leave London behind. To hopefully set ease to his memories of his mothers loss.

He had been looking forward to this adventure. He'd never traveled before on the sea, and found it thrilling. He began to admire it as they drew closer to their new home. He was fond of the peace.

But that was before the pirates attacked.

Louis couldn’t help think their ship, One Direction, seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

Unlike the black flag flown by most pirate ships, a red one waved high on this one.

From most accounts the pirate’s captain, Nick "Grimmy" Shaw, was a ruthless man in these seas.

When Delilah's captain announced the ship had too much cargo to escape the fast approaching ship. Louis' father ordered him to go in the cargo hold, there he located an empty crate and crawled in, pulling the top over him; hidden in the darkness, hearing the cannons, steal clashing, and wood splitting. Thinking much of his father’s life, Louis crawled back out. He crept up the stairs when the young pirate came down.

He barely had time to turn before he grabbed Louis and pinned him against the wall.

In the distant, he could hear shouts and sounds of the battle. Then, in a heartbeat, it stopped. Louis knew the fighting was over. His heart sank. The pirates won. All he knew was probably left was the remains of the looting and the destroyed.

What about his father? Did they kill him? He needed to go see him. If he was dying, he wanted it to be in his arms.

"Please -” Louis started.

"Silence." He spat. "Ill not say it again, hush or ill cut off your tongue."

Louis was surprised by his accent, British, like himself. Although, that voice was one of a could-have-been-gentleman. What made him turn into a pirate? Louis felt almost ashamed to be thinking about the circumstances. All he wanted to do was to be free of him.

Slowly, his gaze roamed over Louis face, almost like he was mesmerized by it.

Would he be kidnapped? Sold into slavery? Louis couldn’t think of anything worse than being wedged between the wall and the pirate.

The young pirates gaze dipped to the gold pendant around Louis neck. With his free hand he tried slipping his fingers around it.

"No, please. I beg of you, don’t take it." He stuttered out, desperately.

His gaze shot up. "You dare -”

"Styles!" A far off voice shouted.

The pirate’s attention darted to the top of the stairs. Some light faintly lit the cargo hold, and Louis could see the concentration on his face. His thought he might have a chance to escape. But, before Louis could act on it, the pirate shifted his gaze back to him. "I have to take something up there or Grimmy will be down here." His eyes menacing.

"Here," Louis said breathlessly, holding up his right hand, showing him a ring. "Take it! It has real diamonds. Just not he necklace was my mothers. It’s the only thing I have to remember her by... " He narrowed his eyes to him like he didn’t trust Louis. (Louis wouldn’t be surprised if pirates had trust issues.)

The pirate cocked a brow. "You want to remember her?"

Louis gulped. "Of course, why not? Wouldn’t you?"

"No." Harry scoffed loudly. "My mother sold me off, wretched woman I’d say." The pirate was almost about to add more detail, but shook his head. Blaming himself for even talking about such weakness.

"You know," He whispered. "The pirate way is to take your pretty finger with the ring. If you want to keep your lovely hand you have to give me something else of value."

Louis swallowed again, harder this time. "I don’t have anything else." He mumbled worriedly. Averting his eyes.

The pirate grinned. "Oh, but I think you do."

Before Louis could protest, the pirate lowered his head and kissed the feathered hair man. Hard.

Louis never been kissed like this. To his surprise, his lips were warm and eager for more contact. The pirate tasted so sweet...like apples.

Their kiss grew more passionate, more demanding to feel each other. Louis' toes practically curled, his knees weakened, and found himself clenching the pirate’s shirt; only because he was afraid he might fall from his body’s extreme reaction to the powerful kiss.

For almost the entire time, Louis forgot the (gorgeous) young man was a pirate.

"Harry Styles! Where are ya, mate?"

The pirate pulled back, grabbed Louis small wrist and yanked the ring off his finger. He chuckled deeply, stepping away from Louis, and back toward the stairs.

"A fair trade, sweetcheeks. I’m very content with it."

Pressing trembling fingers to his moistened lips, Louis simply stared at him. The pirates laugh quickly ended, his expression turned soft to harsh.

"Now, hide until we’ve left." He ordered.

He turned on his heels and dashed up the stairs. "Nothing of value down here, Grimmy!"

Somehow Louis made it back into the crate without his quivering legs giving out. Once inside and the top over his head, he pulled himself into a ball.

Unexpectedly, he flinched every time he heard a crash or a loud bang. Wishing desperately for salvation.

He didn’t know how long he waited but eventually he caught on to the silence. It nearly terrified him. What could it mean? Had the pirates left?

He lifted the lid only a bit when he heard footsteps thundering down the stairs.

"Mr. Tomlinson! Mr. Tomlinson!"

Louis recognized that voice, Zayn Malik, one of the younger officers. He was undeniably handsome, with the thick black hair and brown eyes. Although Louis spoke with him several times, he has caught Zayn multiple times watching him from afar when he was on deck. Embarrassingly, he would blush at the shy attention.

"Here! I’m over here!" Louis shouted. He pushed the top when suddenly it was practically thrown off and Zayn was staring down at him, expression completely serious His clothing and face streaked with blood.

"Your father sent me to get you." He told Louis while helping him out of the crate. Since Louis slightly smaller in height in comparison of most of the men, and apparently the crate.

Immense relief swept through Louis. "Oh thank god. Is he alright?"

"He’s hurt but alright. We’re abandoning ship."

Louis eyebrow furrowed. "Why?"

"Because the bloody pirate set it on fire. Come on," Zayn grabbed his hand. "We have to hurry!" Zayn legs were longer than his, and Louis had a difficult time keeping up with the frantic pace as he tugged him up the stairs. When they reached the top, he thought he was going to be sick. Mangled bodies covered the deck.

Zayn urged him across, to where Captain Cowell was standing. "I’m glad you’re safe, Mr. Tomlinson," He exclaimed. "Your father waiting."

Louis nodded swiftly in understandment. Looking over the side of the ship, he saw a long boat; it was one out of the five that had already been lowered into the water. He noticed his father and the crewman sitting in it.

"How do I get down there?" Louis asked.

"You climb down the ladder," Captain Cowell said, lifting a rope ladder and letting it drop to the side. "Mr. Malik will go first, and then you - Ill follow once you’re safely in. Hurry."

Louis watched as Zayn climbed over the side of the ship, holding the ladder. Then, he joined him. It was awkward, because of how close Zayn seemed to be. But, it gave Louis the courage to keep going. When they were close enough to the long boat, hanging with on hand, Zayn swung himself to the side nonchalantly, guiding Louis as he took his other hand and helped him in. When he finally settled in next to his father Louis wrapped his arms around him.

"You’re safe, thank gosh." He sighed.

He whispered dryly. "They took the Diana chest, the one King George entrusted me with. Now he won’t think of me too well."

Louis pulled back. "Surely he'll understand." His father didn’t seem to be listening to him; he just looked straight ahead.

The boat rocked as Captain Cowell boarded it. "We must be off." He shouted. "Row!"

The crewman began rowing. Louis then noticed Zayn sitting across from him. It took all his strength to smile.

The dark haired boys eyes widen. "You’re trembling." He said worriedly.

"Im freezing, isn’t that ridiculous?" Louis chuckled deeply, fixing his fringe from his eyes. "Were in the Caribbean and I feel like I’m in Antarctica."

He removed his jacket and gently placed on the feathered hair boy; which made him slowly look up. "Your reaction is quite normal. You’ve had a terrifying experience. I’m actually shaky myself."

Louis smiled at him with more quality. He absorbed the warmth of Zayn jacket, barely noticing the blood on it. As the men rowed more farther out, they stared at the Delilah, watching as it was engulfed in flames. Then, Louis looked toward the opposite side where another ship sailed away.

Harry Styles. He'll remember his name and his face.

And worse of all, he will never forget his kiss.