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He grows up with the sea. As a boy it stretches out endlessly before him and he wants to conquer it. Yet he is still afraid of it, the fear of childhood stories and myths. He vows to conquer his fear first and then the sea.
He vows.
He is grown up but the sea isn’t any smaller. He learns his way around a small square-rigger, then a larger sloop and finally a frigate. Fear gives way to respect. The sea stretches out like a giant glass road to be taken. His fellow sailors gain respect for him. He is gifted with the rank of lieutenant in his twentieth year. He notices the other young men he sails with. Once, one of them notices him back.
He sees.
He sails the cool blue of the Atlantic for many years. He becomes smart, skilled, and grim in his determination. He has seen the other men for years now. Nights are spent with them the only way society allows—in darkened corners and alleyways; in the holds and crevices of ships. He takes and gives from them quickly and without a backward glance. He grows restless. Restless with the sea and restless with himself. He wants something more but cannot quite grasp what it is. The maturity of manhood sets in and with it, a longing he knows does not fit in with the rest of his world.
He waits.
He is gifted with an important job. He sees the man who will work with him. They are roughly the same age. The man is Thomas Hamilton. He has soft yellow hair and piercing blue eyes that roam far too freely over his own face and lieutenant’s uniform. He finds himself blushing frequently under that gaze. The longing returns to him like living fire, burning deep within him. The sea no longer keeps it at bay and he fears again. Fears it will swallow him whole before he can discover a cure for it. The longing is made worse when he parts from Thomas.
He burns.
A light touch across his back. A smirk when all eyes are elsewhere. A touch of lips upon lips at last—soft and deep and deeper still. A revelation.
He loves.
He passes his days in either total serenity or total longing, waiting until he is with Thomas again. He learns the complexities of love, of its maddening effects on his mind. It changes him so drastically it frightens him. He knows he wants this all the time, for all time. He pretends it will always be so. Yet the sea still calls to him. He knows he will always return to her and his lover cannot come. Longing again. Then solid earth and serenity. The cycle.
He dreams. For the first time.
The cycle is broken by brutal force. It snaps in twain with enough force to send splinters into his heart. He falls back. He feels gutted and tore apart from the inside. He is taught love’s final lesson and he cannot bear it. It happened all wrong. No good-byes. Something new is planted within him. Something brutal and raw and dangerous.
He hates.
He sows the seeds of hate, sows them well. He buries who he is deep so that no one can find him. He sails again, using the sea to his advantage. He sheds the navy blue, cuts his hair, and pierces his ear. Yes, he will use the sea again. It will complete the hate.
He is Flint.