((OOC: My apologies for being gone so long. Real life has requested my presence and I must oblige. However, I felt like writing something and here it is. Enjoy :) ))
Cristianno, still at sea with his crew and his beloved, begins to feel awkward. Something's not right.
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The
ink danced across the paper, marking every note he jotted down. These notes
were quickly crossed out, the black ink ruining the neatness of the page.
Another word, another scratch. His free hand pressed against his forehead,
fingers slithering through his blonde hair. Everything he wrote just didn’t
make sense or it simply didn’t look right on paper. He wanted perfection, but
it was hard to attain. Cristianno dropped his hand and leaned back in his
leather chair. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes and allowed the ship’s
swaying to move his head from side to side.