and i am sailing away, recalling that day

Whether his own turmoils were troubling him or the alcohol wasn't sitting right on the open sea didn't matter-- the moment Ezra arrived, his attentions were diverted to everyone else around him. He made a mental list of everyone, unaware that one particular person could hear him (even though Mars had been explicitly clear about that beforehand). There was Mars, of course, their almost still fresh on his mind; another man who wasn't hard on the eyes either; a ravishing woman nearby playing with a rambunctious child; and at last his eyes fell on Rose, and suddenly his thoughts were amplified. What a catch, sounded his inner voice, desire webbed around it.

He cast aside his ailments for the time being and wandered over, some variation of a pick up line dangling on his tongue, but before he had even a chance to string it together, she intercepted him. Startled by her caustic tone, Ezra was thrown off his game for a millisecond and it was around this time Mars' warning dawned on him. "Ah, you're the blind mind fairy. Don't like what you hear?" He simpered despite that she couldn't see it, electing to skirt around her tone. "I'm Ezra, by the way. Unless you know that, too?" Was she all-knowing, omniscient, like some type of goddess? He'd never fucked a goddess before.

His mouth opened and then shut again, pensively caressing his chin. So far this interaction was going swimmingly, pun and sarcasm intended. "Alright, alright, sorry. I mean all that in the best way possible, I promise." He made to cross his heart but dropped the gesture, remembering she wouldn't see it anyway.

At her follow-up, he groaned. "You're right-- I'm neither of those things. I'm not even remotely close to a water fairy," Ezra replied, carefully dodging her questions though it was reflex for his thoughts to turn to the answers. Images of Aela's betrayed expression and the tears he'd caused, of Cassian's pleas and their final kiss, of the blurred nights that came after that were tainted by a mixture of drinking and getting high. The pain, even in his mind, was still deep and fresh. There was guilt and regret, but mostly longing.

Rather than dwell on it, though Rose had already heard it all, he asked, "Why are you hanging out with this lot? This doesn't seem like your type of crowd." Mars had told him in short why the blind chick was accompanying his crew, but Ezra was interested in hearing her version of it.

"That few and far between, huh?" He'd listened intently as she answered, surprised at her admission. Though, thinking about it, how many of his own kind had he met? The few he did know of, acquaintances of his father, were all burnt out by now, a fact Ezra Sr had used giddily to try and keep his devil spawn in line. You'll burn yourself up one day, son, and your soul will spend eternity aflame, he'd tutted. Little did he know, all he did was erase the fear of god from his son.

Because you hurt Aela? He was jarred out his reverie by the question. It was innocent and… infuriating. Immediately, his barriers sprang up. "That's none of your fucking business. Just because you get to sit in the gallery, doesn't mean everything's for show," he snapped. In a huff he stormed off before Rose could react, venturing below deck in search of a drink to take the edge off.

---

After that initial meeting and a few encounters that didn't go any better, Ezra made a conscious effort of avoiding Rose. Sometimes, he thought he could feel her presence poking at his skull, trying to find entry into his thoughts, and he would dredge up his foulest memories, his dirtiest conquests, or just plain vulgar language, a stream of fucks and bitches tumbling around his head. Maybe she wasn't invading his mind, but it made him feel better and less paranoid.

It wasn't long that he could keep it up. Eventually, on a particularly rocky night, stormy winds making the ocean as turbulent as his emotions were becoming, he collapsed against the mast with a bucket tight in one hand while the other cradled a still full bottle of booze. The others were elsewhere: Elise reading to Charlie below deck, Wes directing the wind currents from the crow's nest, Mars steady at the wheel, and Rose… well, he didn't know or care where Rose was. Well, maybe her company wouldn't be so bad. At least it would distract him from--

He retched, today's lunch deposited into the bucket. Ezra leaned back and groaned aloud, praying for tomorrow to come faster.

"An outstanding observation by our local seer," sneered Ezra in return, his voice insidious but the tone of his thoughts were tinted by remorse. He wasn't trying to be unkind, but her blunt honesty prompted it right out of him.

His eyes moved towards the bottle in his hand as he grumbled, "I'm not drinking it. It's just here for….comfort, I guess. Fuck, I don't know. What are you doing out? Enjoying the view?" As much as he did want to down the liquor, to erase all the torment in his mind for a while, he knew there was no way he was going to keep it down. Try as he might, he couldn't keep his thoughts away from Aela and Cassian, his grief highlighted by his homesickness. It grew harder to stave off with every day-- and his mood grew increasingly affected by that.

"I can't go back. She doesn't care what happens to me anymore." She could try to convince him otherwise, but Ezra was filled with the conviction that he'd been cast out of Aela's heart forever. He was a disgrace, a living sin, just like his father always said. "I don't have a home. The jail maybe, which is where I'll probably end up when I leave here."

He enjoyed being on the ship and feeling like he was part of something again, but he knew it wasn't a long-term solution. This life was no life for him anymore than one locked up behind bars would be. He belonged in Pyxis. He knew that, and it crushed him that he'd ruined that too, like everything else in his life. Maybe Aela was right in keeping him as her secret friend throughout her life; he was a disease that killed whatever he touched. The thought spurred a bitter chuckle from him.

The further his thoughts plunged, the more they would enshroud Rose and drag her to their depths, into the inky black void that was Ezra's very deeply repressed emotions. If he had any modicum of control over them, he would have kept them buried. Instead, he sneered, thinking of all the times he'd cried his apologies to his father only for the abuse to get worse. "Words can't fix everything. I broke her trust in one of the worst ways I could. She's better off, anyway." Maybe he wasn't, but the one comfort he had was that Aela could be happier knowing he was gone and out of her hair. He could be someone else's problem.

Speaking of, his gaze raised to her sightless eyes. "What did Mars save you from? How much trouble can a blind chick get into?"