Page 34 of Storm and Sea

Nyel dropped his gaze and said nothing else.

“Talk as little as possible,” Atreus instructed before approaching the stairs. He’d watched this landing for over a decade. And for the first time, he placed a foot on the rickety step.

It was everything he imagined it would be. Each step across the creaky floorboards echoed with memories. The furniture was primarily wooden, worn, and well-loved. The layout was simple: a kitchen on the left and a living space with a single couch and TV on the right. Straight in front of him stretched a long hallway that likely contained the bedrooms Giovanni constantly offered him.

The smell of the pescheria downstairs lingered faintly, mingling with the aroma of Horace’s tobacco and fresh basil. It was cramped, old, and stuffy.

It was perfect.

Nyel was likely thinking the same thing as his head spun, trying to see everything at once. He opened his mouth to speak, but Atreus quickly covered it with his hand, stopping him from asking something stupid like, What’s a window?

“Make yourselves at home, fate come se foste a casa vostra. Horace is already in bed for the night, so the space is ours,” Giovanni said, tossing his leather gloves on the round kitchen table. “Dinner will be ready in an hour. You boys can choose your rooms—any on the left side of the hall are open. I’ve left some linens in the hall for your beds. You might want to crack a window, though; the rooms haven’t been used in some time.”

“Thank you, Signore Marc-” Atreus stopped when the old fisherman raised a thick brow at him. “Thank you, Giovanni.”

His mentor smiled and pulled ingredients from the ice box. The moment the refrigerator door opened and the light inside came on, Nyel’s feet practically floated closer, his mouth gaping in fascination. Atreus grabbed his arm and dragged him to the hall before he could cause a scene.

“C’mon,” he said, rolling his eyes.

He opted to give Nyel the room farthest down, which was also farthest from any of the already occupied rooms.

“This place is amazing!” Nyel blurted the moment the door closed.

“It is,” Atreus said shortly, even though he too was in awe. This was his first glimpse into what life at home looked like for humans. Or anyone, for that matter. He didn’t consider his upbringing homely. But this place…

This is where memories are made. This is a place for family.

“Yeah,” Atreus mused, “It’s nice.”

“I mean, did you see that giant white box? It’s cold. And so much wood, how do they shape it? Oh my gills, I want to touch that dark green thing; I bet it’s soft; how do they make those? And there is light coming from the top of the house. Light without the sun! And did you see the⁠—”

Atreus let Nyel rattle off every mundane thing he’d seen, only half listening as he opened the window to air out the stuffy room. He found some fresh blankets in the closet and made Nyel’s bed, occasionally giving names to the objects Nyel described.

The dark green thing - couch.

Cold white box - refrigerator.

Tan box with two antennae sticking out of the top - Television.

“It’s even cooler when it’s turned on,” Atreus said regarding the moving picture box.

“I can’t wait,” Nyel said, lighting up like he’d found sunken treasure.

“You need to take a deep breath before dinner. And remember the rules? No questions in front of anyone. I’ll answer them later.”

“What if Giovanni asks me something? What do I say?”

“Let me do the talking. And don’t worry—the old man is comfortable with silence.”

That was one of Atreus’s favorite parts about Giovanni—well, one of his favorites; he admired almost everything about that man. There was a certain stillness in the way his boss stood, a calm that suggested he was someone who observed more than he spoke. And the fewer the questions, the less Atreus was forced to lie.

By the time Atreus showed Nyel where he’d sleep and explained everything about using the bathroom (threatening him at least ten times to dry off completely before unlocking the door), the scent of fresh basil drifted down the hall.

“And what’s the number one rule?” Atreus asked for the third time, blocking the sireno’s way.

Nyel rolled his eyes. “Don’t get wet. Don’t ask questions. Don’t be stupid - I’m not a kid, you know. I can handle myself.”

“You’re basically an infant when it comes to humans,” Atreus said, pulling back the curtain, hoping for clear skies. The rain continued its merciless barrage with no end in sight.