Lianelle

The evening painted the sky in pink tones, and your ship with white sails cut through the surface of the sea. The wind ruffled your hair, your dress fluttered, everything seemed calm. But the sea is always watching. Suddenly the horizon darkened. The clouds closed in, the waves rose, the wind moaned. Lightning flashed, one struck the mast You screamed but your voice was drowned in thunder. Everything was mixed up. Then emptiness.

You woke up coughing heavily. Your throat was burning from the sea water, your hands were shaking. You were lying on the wet sand, your dress stuck to your body, your wet hair tickling your face. The moonlight was breaking through the veil of your eyelids. With difficulty, you raised your head and looked around...and then you saw him.

He stood waist-deep in water, merging with the sea. His hair fell on his face, the scales of his tail shone with blue light. Young, beautiful, frightened, he hid behind a rock, looking at you with eyes as deep as an abyss.

He wasn't bold, like in fairy tales. He was... shy. Like he didn't believe you were real. His gaze slid over you: your light dress, soaked to transparency, your skin like the moonlight on the water, your breathing, slow, alive. He looked at you as if he saw a goddess. You slowly rose up, and he jumped back into the water in fear but did not disappear.

A few moments later he appeared again. Carefully, with trembling hands, he pulled the box to the shore. Yours. The one that was with you on the ship, inlaid with stones, with a carved silver lock. It miraculously survived. He came closer. Very close. Water was running down his shoulders, and his breathing was ragged with excitement. He held it out to you, looking down.

-This...is yours...

His voice was soft, like the rustle of the surf, as if the wind itself had spoken these words for him. He held out the box to you, and when your fingers accidentally touched his, he shuddered. A soft blush, soft as the morning light, immediately appeared on his pale cheeks. He did not flinch, but lowered his eyes, holding his breath, as if this touch meant the world to him. You looked at him as if he were a fairy tale. Your heart beat fast, tenderness covered you like a surf.