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Better Than Revenge by Taylor Swift
The next day began like so many others had over the past few weeks. Estella woke up to the sound of the ship creaking as it rocked gently against the waves, and Harry Hook sprawled across her bed like he owned it.
Somehow, their unusual dynamic had morphed into something that felt almost... domestic. Each night, Harry would come into her cabin, his presence a mix of stubbornness and comfort. He'd braid her hair before bed, his hands surprisingly gentle as he worked through the tangles, teasing her about how wild it had gotten during the day. In the mornings, he'd tie a small bow at the end of her braid with a cocky grin, acting as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
And every time he kissed her forehead or her cheek before they got up for the day, Estella felt her heart twist in ways she couldn't quite name.
Today was no different. Harry had tied her braid with a little black ribbon before she even opened her eyes, pressing a soft kiss to her temple as he whispered, "Mornin', Stella."
"Mornin'," she murmured groggily, blinking up at him.
He gave her a satisfied smirk. "There's my favorite girl."
"Shut up," she muttered, shoving him playfully before climbing out of bed.
Their mornings felt impossibly normal, despite the strange circumstances that had brought them together. And that normalcy terrified her.
Later that day, Harry found her sitting on the deck, staring out at the horizon. The sun was starting to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, and the sight tugged at something deep inside her.
Harry dropped down beside her, his hook glinting in the fading sunlight. "What're you thinkin' about, pixie?"
She glanced at him, biting her lip. "Home," she admitted softly.
He frowned, his jaw tightening. "This could be your home, y'know," he said after a moment, his voice quieter than usual.
Estella's breath caught, her heart thudding painfully in her chest. "Harry..."
"Stay," he said, turning to face her fully. His blue eyes burned with an intensity that made her chest ache. "Stay here. With me."
She stared at him, her mind spinning. The sincerity in his voice was almost too much to bear.
"I can't," she whispered, her voice cracking.
"Why not?" he demanded, his frustration slipping through. "You're happy here, Stella. I see it. Don't deny it."
Her hands curled into fists in her lap, tears stinging her eyes. "Because it's not my world, Harry. I don't belong here."
"You belong with me," he said fiercely, leaning closer.
The words shattered something inside her. She stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the wood of the deck.
"I can't do this," she said, her voice trembling as she turned and walked away, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Harry didn't chase after her. Instead, he stayed where he was, letting out a heavy sigh as he raked a hand through his hair.
That night, Estella's world tilted again. She had just finished helping some of the younger crew members clean up dinner when she heard voices coming from below deck.
Quietly, she crept closer, recognizing Harry and Gil's voices.
"I'm tellin' ya, Harry, I overheard it myself," Gil was saying. "The Auradon kids are plannin' somethin'. They're comin' here soon."
Harry's voice was low and tense. "How soon?"
"Could be days. Could be hours. We've gotta be ready," Gil said.
Estella's stomach dropped. Her friends were coming for her.
Harry sighed. "I knew they wouldn't give up on her," he muttered.
Estella's heart ached at the resigned tone in his voice. Slowly, she backed away from the door, her mind racing.
Her friends were comingâbut why did the thought of leaving the ship, and Harry, feel more like a loss than a victory?
The next few days were a whirlwind of emotions for Estella. Her friends' supposed rescue attempt never came, and the tension that had lingered since overhearing Harry and Gil's conversation slowly began to dissipate. But something had shifted inside herâsomething she couldn't quite understand.
Harry noticed immediately.
She was quieter than usual, her sarcastic quips less frequent, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. At night, she sat on the edge of her bed, lost in thought, her green eyes staring into nothing. Harry would braid her hair like always, but the energy between them was different. He didn't say anything at first, but his hand lingered a little longer on her shoulder, his eyes searching hers as if trying to figure out what was wrong.
One evening, as the ship rocked gently against the waves, Harry finally confronted her.
"You're actin' strange, pixie," he said, leaning against the doorframe of her cabin as she sat on the bed.
Estella didn't look up, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the edge of her braid. "I'm fine, Harry."
"Don't lie to me," he said, his voice soft but firm as he stepped into the room.
She sighed, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her chin on them. "I just... I've been thinking a lot lately."
"About?"
"About everything," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "My friends. Auradon. You."
Harry sat down beside her, his presence steady and grounding. "What about me?"
Estella hesitated, her throat tightening. "About what you said... about me staying."
He didn't respond right away, but when she finally met his gaze, the vulnerability in his eyes nearly broke her.
"You're scared," he said quietly, his fingers brushing against hers.
Her lips parted, but no words came out.
"You're afraid of what it'd mean if you stayed," he continued, his voice softening even further. "Of what it'd mean for us."
Her chest tightened, and she nodded slowly. "I've never been good at... staying," she admitted. "I've always kept people at arm's length. It's easier that way. Safer."
Harry's hand slid over hers, his touch warm and reassuring. "You don't have to be scared with me, Stella."
She looked at him, her eyes wide and uncertain. "How can you be so sure?"
He gave her a small, crooked smile. "Because I've seen you. The real you. The one who stays up late braidin' those kids' hair when they're homesick. The one who cooks for a crew of rough, ungrateful pirates without complainin'. The one who makes me want to be better."
Her breath caught, her heart pounding in her chest. "Harry..."
"You don't have to run anymore, pixie," he said softly. "Not from me. Not from this."
Tears welled up in her eyes, and she quickly looked away, biting her lip. She thought back to the day he asked her to stay, the raw emotion in his voice, the way her heart had ached when she walked away. Why was she reconsidering it now?
The week passed in a blur, and slowly, Estella began to fall back into her old routine. She helped in the galley, cleaned the deck, and made sure the younger crew members didn't eat too much bread before dinner.
And Harry was always there, his hand finding its way to her hip as he leaned close to tease her or press a quick kiss to her temple. She didn't push him away anymore. She didn't want to.
One afternoon, as she stood at the railing watching the waves, Harry came up behind her, his arm looping casually around her waist.
"You've been smilin' more," he remarked, his voice low and amused.
She glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow. "Don't get used to it."
Harry chuckled, pulling her a little closer. "Too late, pixie."
For a moment, they stood in comfortable silence, the sounds of the sea surrounding them. Estella leaned into him slightly, her heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks.
Maybe staying wasn't such a terrible idea after all.