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What the Hell by Avril Lavigne
descendants two
The days bled into each other aboard the ship, but something was different now. Estella was starting to feel like herself again. She no longer spent hours staring out of the tiny window, wallowing in silence. She moved about the ship cautiously, her footsteps light but present, and even ate more than just a few nibbles of bread. Her snarky wit had made a tentative return, much to Harry's delight.
And Harryâhe had changed too, though she wouldn't admit she'd noticed. His sharp edges seemed softer, his teasing less cutting, and his attention more focused on her. It was both infuriating and... flattering.
It was late in the evening, the ship rocking gently with the tide as the crew milled about, some sharpening weapons while others played cards under lantern light. Estella sat cross-legged on an overturned barrel, her green eyes fixed on the horizon as the last streaks of sunset bled into the night.
She heard the familiar sound of boots on wood and the soft clink of Harry's hook before he spoke.
"Evenin', Stella," he said, his voice low and smooth.
Estella looked up, her heart skipping slightly at the way the nickname rolled off his tongue. She had told him exactly once that her friends sometimes called her Stella, and now it was all he used.
"Harry," she replied, arching an eyebrow. "Is this where you pretend to be charming again?"
He grinned, leaning casually against the railing beside her. "Who said I was pretendin'?"
She rolled her eyes but couldn't stop the small smile tugging at her lips. "What do you want?"
Harry hesitated, his usual smirk faltering for a moment before he cleared his throat. "I... wanted to talk. About that day. When your friends left."
Estella blinked, caught off guard. "What about it?"
He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes flicking to the water before meeting hers. "I shouldn't've stopped you," he admitted, his voice softer than she'd ever heard it. "You should've gone with them. You should be back in Auradon right now, not stuck on this bloody ship."
Her heart clenched at the sincerity in his tone. She hadn't expected this from himânot Harry Hook, the pirate who seemed to delight in her misery at every turn.
"Why didn't you let me go?" she asked quietly, her voice tinged with something fragile.
He hesitated again, his jaw tightening as if he was struggling to find the right words. Finally, he sighed. "Because I didn't want you to go," he said simply. "Not when you were standin' there, lookin' at me like I was the worst person in the world."
Estella stared at him, her breath catching in her throat. "You're not the worst person in the world," she murmured.
Harry's lips twitched into a faint smile. "Glad to hear it, pixie."
The tension between them hung heavy in the air, and for once, Estella didn't look away. She couldn't. There was something raw in his expression, something that made her chest tighten and her cheeks flush.
"You call me that a lot," she said softly, trying to deflect the warmth blooming in her chest. "Pixie. Stella. Why?"
Harry smirked, the light catching in his eyes. "'Cause they suit you. Feisty little thing with a bite, but soft underneath." He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And 'Stella'... well, it's mine, isn't it?"
Her face burned, and she quickly looked away, pretending to focus on the waves. "You're impossible," she muttered.
"And yet, here you are," he teased, his grin widening.
She was about to retort when his hand brushed hers, the movement so subtle she almost thought she imagined it. But then his fingers lingered, just barely touching hers, and the air seemed to crackle between them.
"Stella," he murmured, his voice soft and low, like he was saying her name for the first time.
Her breath hitched as she turned to face him, their eyes locking. He was closer now, so close she could see the flecks of green in his piercing blue eyes. Her gaze flicked to his lips, and for a moment, everything else faded away.
Harry leaned in, his hand moving to rest lightly on her arm. His lips were just a breath away from hers, and her heart thundered in her chest, her pulse roaring in her ears.
"Harryâ"
The door to the deck slammed open, and Gil's booming voice shattered the moment. "Harry! You've got to see this! There'sâoh."
Estella jumped back, her face flaming as Harry groaned audibly, running a hand down his face. "Gil," he said, his voice dripping with irritation, "what is it?"
Gil blinked, his usual oblivious grin spreading across his face as he glanced between the two of them. "Oh, uh, nothing. Just... Uma's still not back, and I figured you'd want to know."
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath before flashing Gil a tight smile. "Thanks, mate. I'll handle it."
Gil nodded, clearly unaware of the tension he'd interrupted. "Right. Carry on, then!" He turned and disappeared below deck, leaving the two of them in awkward silence.
Estella shifted uncomfortably, her cheeks still burning as she avoided Harry's gaze.
"Well," she said finally, her voice a little too high-pitched, "that was... something."
Harry stared at her for a moment, then let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "Aye, it was."
She risked a glance at him, her lips twitching despite herself. "Guess the moment's ruined, huh?"
"For now," he said, his voice teasing but his eyes warm. "But don't worry, Stella. I've got plenty more moments up my sleeve."
Her blush deepened, and she quickly turned back to the horizon, hiding her smile as the waves rocked the ship gently beneath them.
Estella had finally settled into a routine aboard the ship. Though she was still desperate to get back to Auradon, the days had become a little easier, filled with less tension and more of her usual sass. Her messy blonde braids were back in place, her sharp quips flying just as quickly as the daggers Harry often twirled in his fingers.
She had even started cooking for the crew. At first, it was out of sheer boredom, but soon she found herself enjoying it. The younger crew membersâbarely more than boysâhad taken an immediate liking to her. They'd stumble over their words when she smiled at them and do extra chores just to earn a passing compliment.
"Stella, you've got half the crew wrapped around your little finger," Harry grumbled one afternoon as he leaned lazily against the galley door, watching her stir a pot over the stove.
"Don't blame me for being charming," she shot back, her lips curving into a smirk. "Not my fault they're easier to win over than you."
Harry rolled his eyes, stepping into the room and plopping down at the small table. "Oh, please. You didn't win me overâI'm just biding my time."
"Sure, Hook," she said, glancing at him with a playful glare. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."
Despite his protests, Harry couldn't deny that her presence had changed the ship's atmosphere. The crew was more cheerful, the meals were better, and even Harry found himself smiling more often than he cared to admit.
Later that evening, Estella sat on the deck with Harry, her legs crossed as the salty sea breeze tangled her hair even further. She was tryingâand failingâto re-braid it, her fingers fumbling with the loose strands.
"You're useless at that, aren't you?" Harry teased, his smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Thanks for the observation, Captain Obvious," she snapped, tossing him a dirty look.
He chuckled, leaning back against a crate. "Here, let me try."
Estella blinked, her hands pausing mid-braid. "You? Braid my hair?"
"Why not?" Harry said, scooting closer. "I've got two hands, don't I? Besides..." He gave her a smug look. "How hard can it be?"
She arched an eyebrow but turned her back to him, handing over the loose strands of her hair. "Fine, but don't blame me if you make me look ridiculous."
Harry's hands were surprisingly gentle as he gathered her hair, his fingers threading through the strands with surprising care. "So," he said after a moment, "do you boss everyone around like this, or is it just me?"
"It's just you," Estella quipped, her lips twitching into a small smile. "You bring out the worst in me."
"Good," he murmured, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "Keeps things interesting."
For a while, they sat in companionable silence, the only sounds the creak of the ship and the occasional shout from the crew. Harry worked slowly, concentrating far more than he ever did during sword practice. When he finished, he tugged lightly on one of the braids.
"There," he said, his voice softer now. "Not bad, eh?"
Estella reached up to touch the braid, her fingers brushing against his hand. She turned to look at him, her green eyes warm. "Not bad," she admitted. "For a pirate."
Harry grinned, sitting back with a satisfied look. "Told you I was good with my hands."
She groaned, rolling her eyes. "And there's the ego again. Should've known it wouldn't last."
A few days later, the easy rhythm they'd found was disrupted when Harry returned to the ship battered and bruised. Estella was waiting on deck when she saw him limp aboard, his lip split and a dark bruise blooming across his jaw.
"Harry!" she exclaimed, rushing to his side.
"'S nothin'," he muttered, waving her off. "Just a little scuffle."
Estella ignored him, grabbing his arm and steering him toward the galley. "Sit down before you keel over."
He grumbled under his breath but didn't resist, sinking into a chair as she rummaged through a small crate of supplies for bandages and salve.
"Who'd you pick a fight with this time?" she asked, her tone sharp but laced with concern as she dabbed a wet cloth against the cut on his cheek.
"Some idiot who thought he could out-swordfight me," Harry replied, wincing slightly. "Spoiler alert: he couldn't."
Estella shot him a pointed look. "Right, because you look like the picture of victory right now."
"Careful, pixie," he said, a ghost of his smirk returning. "You're startin' to sound like you care."
She rolled her eyes but didn't respond, her focus on cleaning his wounds. As she worked, the teasing faded, replaced by a quiet, almost somber atmosphere.
"Harry," she said softly after a moment, her hands stilling. "You can't keep doing this to yourself. One day, you're not going to come back."
His smirk faltered, and he looked at her, something unreadable in his gaze. "What, worried about me now, are you?"
"Of course I'm worried about you," she snapped, her voice cracking slightly. "You're reckless and arrogant, andâ" She stopped, taking a shaky breath. "And I don't want you to get hurt."
Harry stared at her, stunned into silence. For once, he didn't have a witty comeback. Instead, he reached out, his fingers brushing against hers as he whispered, "I'll be alright, Stella. I promise."
She didn't trust her voice, so she nodded, her hands trembling slightly as she wrapped the bandage around his arm.
When she finished, she sat back, her green eyes locking with his. Without thinking, she leaned forward, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug.
For a moment, Harry froze, clearly caught off guard. But then his arms came around her, holding her just as tightly.
"Thank you," he murmured against her hair, his voice barely audible.
Estella pulled back slightly, her cheeks flushing as she met his gaze. "Don't make me regret it, Hook."
His grin returned, though it was softer now. "Wouldn't dream of it, pixie."