Without the use of my gills, my lungs burn just like anyone else’s. Damn, do I wish I could use them whenever I wanted.
That kind of freedom is something I can only dream about; it’s worth getting close to Wren…
But is it worth hurting her?
Two weeks ago, I would have said yes; now I hesitate to answer.
A click pulls my attention from my mental spiral, and I snap my head up to look at the girl who seems to infect my thoughts constantly.
Wren stands not far from the pool, her backpack on her back and camera in hand, the lens pointed my way, and I assume the click I heard was her taking a picture.
Well…
I watch as she slowly pulls the camera away from her face so that I can look into those ocean-blue eyes.
This is what I mean by perfect. She stands in the same uniform that every other girl in this school wears, blonde hair braided over her left shoulder, camera in hand, and not an ounce of makeup, and somehow she’s more beautiful than any girl I’ve ever laid eyes on.
“Oh god, I’m so sorry!” she says, smacking her free hand over her mouth as red blooms on her cheeks, making her impossibly more perfect.
I’m not sure what to do or say, so instead I remain where I am, unable to look away.
I do a quick mental check to ensure nothing accidentally shifted while I was swimming, but come up with everything in order.
So why is she looking at me like that?
“Can I help you?” I force myself to say, unsure what to do other than sit here and look at her, which seems silly.
My question seems to shake her, and she gives a little jump as she drops her hand from her mouth, shaking her head.
“I’m so sorry! I was trying to memorize the building so I can stop getting lost and needing Julian to save me, but I stumbled upon the gym and ended up here instead. I was going to leave until I saw you swimming, and you just looked so beautiful. You swim so gracefully, like you were born to be in the water, and I just couldn’t fight the itch to take a few pictures. It seemed like a crime not to capture it, but I should have asked instead of just invading your space. I can totally delete them if you want me to.”
She talks so fast it’s a wonder she’s still able to breathe, let alone the fact that I was able to understand her, and fuck, I hate that it seems to make her more adorable.
Usually, I would tell anyone else to get fucked, probably going so far as to take their camera and chuck it in the pool for good measure.
I can’t be sure I didn’t let a scale or gill slip for a moment, and what if that was the exact moment she took a picture?
Letting mortals know about our existence is forbidden; I would be exiled back to the ocean.
So why doesn’t it feel like a bigger deal?
“It’s fine. You just startled me, is all. I didn’t know anyone was here.” Not a total lie, yet the words still taste like ash on my tongue.
Keep her close, keep her happy, and if you can, find a way to keep her.My father’s words ring in my ears, and I hate them, hate him, but…
“Why don’t you come show me? Let me see if they are any good, and if so, you can keep them.” I’ve never flirted in my life; I don’t have the time, energy, or ability to date, not with so much riding on my performance.
So why does this feel so easy?
Wren seems shocked as she continues to watch me for a moment, almost as if she expects me to take it back. When it becomes clear I’m not going to, she cocks her head and her brows pinch together, and I almost chuckle at how cute she looks. How anyone can hate her blows my mind.
“Really?” she asks, clearly needing reassurance, but the second I nod, a smile pulls at the corner of her lips, and she’s moving.
She runs across the pool deck before I can scold her for it. Running in here is a terrible idea; she’s liable to end up on her ass or in the water. I open my mouth to say as much, but before I can, she’s shoving the camera in my face, and I’m met with a picture of me.
I’m mid-breaststroke, my torso above the water as I gulp in a lungful of air before I plunge back in.
It’s a really good shot, damn near professional.
