six_word_stories | (no subject)

[ Charlie sits nearby, journal out as she writes in shorthand. She is about fifteen feet away, so it's not like she can easily reach his hat. But, she's not without a trick or two. So the hat gets nudged off his face with a simple telekinetic push and Charlie goes back to her book, writing away because she totally had nothing to do with the hat falling off of Harry. No sir. Nope. ]

[Any soft, steady, breathing noises—the noises of someone surely sound asleep—fall away when the hat does.]

Huh. Must be a gust of wind.

[His tone is as dry as sand. Dry sand. Not beach sand.]

Maybe. What else would it be?

[ Charlie certainly isn't the culprit out of boredom. ]

The forecast did call for high winds.

[ Tomorrow. It calls for that tomorrow. ]

Can’t think of what else.

[The sailor in Harry knows very well what the forecast is.]

Don’t suppose ye could give me a hand?

[ She could but that's no fun. Then again, neither is the cramp in her leg from sitting so long. So she's on her feet and heading over, crouching to pick up the hat two feet away and holding it out. ]

There. Consider yourself helped.

[Awww it’d be such fun.

Still, he appreciates it. He tosses her a roguish wink and holds his hand out for the hat.]

I feel helped.

[ And Charlie would be nicer about this and actually hand him the hat, but she's a little shit and stands just out of reach with it. ]

Was this your dads hat? It's pretty cool.

[ Just. Not handing over the hat right away. ]

[there’s the imperceptible flinch whenever someone mentions Harry’s father but he covers it with a hefty sigh and an impatient gesture.]

Nah and aye, it’s mine and it’s cool.

[Just give him his hat back.]

[ Charlie noticed. She's not blind. But she's also not gonna point it out and hold the hat just slightly closer. ]

Where'd you get it? Maybe I want one.

Marketplace.

[the ‘gimme’ gesture becomes a little more emphatic, making his hammock swing.] Or Gil bought a stack a bit back, ask him.

[ The side of her that is one hundred percent her dad totally wants to keep the hat just out of Harry's reach but there's no real point to that kind of bull, is there? So she hands it back after a very brief second of hesitation. ]

If I run into him.

[ Shes not exactly known for wandering the Isle, preferring instead to stick close to home. ]

[Well it would be a hilarious sight but at some point Harry would get out of his hammock to get his
property back.]

Or ye could ask him to stop by. He’s pretty proud of his stack.

[Harry doesn’t replace the hat over his face, instead putting it on properly atop his head.] did he wake me up for anything?