Indeed, the bed was not occupied by Poe. It was occupied by a long and lithe pirate, dressed all in black (though he'd kicked his boots off and his leather jacket was draped over a chair), forget-me-not eyes a pop of color that accentuated the ensemble. Those eyes were lined with kohl, smudged slightly, as if he'd already been outside staring at the water and watching it ripple.
He had been, for the record. And then he came back inside, hoping his dreadful 'angelic' roommate wasn't around, only to find that when he opened the door - there was Stanley, snoozing away in one of the beds.
How that had happened, well, this Captain couldn't tell you - or even how he found this new room at all. Was just led there, he supposed, but he wasn't going to question it since he had more important things to worry about - like ensuring Stanley didn't try to touch Excalibur. He usually didn't sleep and preferred to read or relax on the boat dock, or sit up all night in the theater watching films, but the first is what he'd been doing - he set the book he was devouring aside, turning to look at his new flatmate with a crooked, devilish grin. They hadn't really talked since the experience with magic 'shrooms but Fate had a way of being a right shit sometimes, and forcing things.
"Morning, sunshine. I do hope you're naked under those sheets."