Page 53 of Storm and Sea

“You two, it’s just… I didn’t grow up with siblings.”

A guilty knot twisted in his gut at the thought of Nephi. Despite sharing blood, they were virtual strangers.

He was never around; what was I supposed to do about it?

“Oh yeah, it’s loads of fun,” Atreus said sarcastically, putting up a hand to block an attempted pillow-snipe from Marina.

“Here. Get in on this,” Marina said, tossing Nyel another pillow as she stalked towards Atreus, a wildcat grin on her face.

“Whoa, whoa, what is this? Ganging up on me? I call foul,” Atreus protested, backing into a corner and holding his pillow like a shield.

“Show no mercy,” Marina said like a battle cry.

All three of them were red-faced and disheveled when Giovanni burst through the door, looking thoroughly annoyed. “Are you toddlers? Spare me, per favore; it is the middle of the night.”

“Sorry, Papà,” Marina said through a curtain of tangled red hair.

“Sorry, we didn’t mean—” Atreus was cut off as a well-timed pillow smushed into his face.

“Got ‘em!” Marina cheered, pumping a victory first into the air.

Nyel slapped a hand over his mouth, unsuccessfully covering his snort. Giovanni shook his head and grumbled something about getting too old for rowdy children before leaving.

“There you go, getting me in trouble,” Atreus hissed, but he was smiling.

“Oh, don’t be a baby.”

“What did I tell you? A feral cat, this one,” Atreus said, wiping curly strands from his eyes.

Nyel paused, almost doing a double-take when Atreus’s gaze caught on his as though by accident. With his face flushed and a smile tugging at his lips, Atreus’s eyes shone like nacre shells. They glistened with an untamed energy that promised… something.

“We should go to bed,” Atreus said, breaking the connection. Nyel dropped his head, heat creeping into his face.

“See you boys tomorrow!” Marina singsonged, twirling on a single bare foot before leaving the room without closing the door.

Atreus rolled his eyes, following after her. “Night,” he said shortly, but before he disappeared, Nyel called out.

“Atreus?”

“Yeah?” He stilled.

“I’m—” Nyel’s throat was dry. “I’m really happy to be here.”

“Yeah. Alright,” Atreus said after some consideration.

“You’re not going to, I mean, you don’t want me⁠—”

“If I was going to chase you out of here, I would have done it by now,” he said with a teasing lilt.

Nyel’s shoulders relaxed. “Really?”

“Really,” he said, and to Nyel’s relief, it looked like he meant it. “Night.”

“Night,” Nyel replied as the door clicked shut.

He turned off the light and rolled onto his side. The last thing he saw imprinted behind his eyelids, lingering like a vivid, unshakable dream—the image of abalone green eyes and a reluctant smile.

“You two, go ahead. I need to stretch for a minute,” Nyel said, pressing his hands into his lower back and arching. The three of them had been bent over the stupid banner for hours, but Nyel had to admit it looked great. Atreus had an incredible knack for penmanship, and the words flowed evenly across the cloth. He’d even added a variety of ocean creatures in bright golden paint.