Jax listened. He watched her most of the time, but he did close his eyes during a few parts too loving the feeling of getting lost in the sound, the words, and the story. She was beyond good at reading out loud. She was spectacular. He could listen to her for hours. 

He had never read the story Gulliver’s Travels but he knew he would beg, burrow, and steal now to finish it. It was a dream. It was a paradise. This collection and her.

Jax didn’t own any books. He traveled light bought a few, then left them for someone else. As a young boy he was lucky to attached himself to navigators who knew the value of reading maps, so from that reading in general. They had fed his hunger for words and he now tried to do the same. But he was sure he was not as gifted as the First Mate was. 

First Mate, he thought as he looked to her when she paused. He smiled in a dreamy way and rooted through the bottle to find what they had admitted hours ago one of their favorites. He uncorked it and handed it to her.

“You read splendidly.” He smiled to her. “And I might not do it the justice you do, but I am willing to take a turn and let you sit back and close your eyes and listen. But first, I need to ask you something. A huge favor I am sure. Might I call you by your name? “ He had scooted closer to give her the bottle and now he felt the need to stand up, closer to her bed and ask her, with more than just his words but with his eyes. Jax had asked her more times than he remember and still she had not given him permission. 

He began to ramble, “I know there must be a risk, you thinking I will misuse the trust you give and tease you in front of other or call your name when not appropriate. I am guessing you know I think there is power in words, in names, in meanings.” He should shut up. He should take the book and read. Even though his mind told him that he didn’t stop. “I find myself wanting to be privileged to call you something more than First Mate.”

He took a breath and shook the bottle for her with one hand and offered to take the book with the other. “I shouldn’t pressure you. That is not like me. I’ll read. “ 

Jax did not wait for her answer sure he might have misstepped again and he tried to cover it up quickly by taking the book. Then he flopped on the floor. “Beside how will you if I slur first if I don’t read?” He grinned and cleared his throat. He sat closer to the bed on the floor leaning against it and he started.

His voice was rich and yet not as smooth or polished as hers. Where the sound of her words held mystery and promises of things, his was more direct at frist. He added pauses and changes in his volume and tone at different parts but they were subtle at first. He accented words that might not have normally been highlighted because, just like in life, Jax saw thing differently. His voice said so. But he read with a rhythm that matched the roll of the ship. It matched his thrill of the story and being right where he was.