Page 53 of She Who Was Once the Sea

"That’s what the city used to smell like." She navigated the streets deftly, like she could do so with her eyes closed.

She probably could.

"Everything was fresh and clean. Things just… worked. They worked slowly, but they worked. And we were there for all of it, supporting where we could, bringing fish and playing with children. Life was quiet and simple. There were conflicts, of course, but for the most part, people just lived."

As we walked, she occasionally raised a hand and let it drag against the walls around us, flakes of stone falling to the ground behind her fingers.

Before I realized we were even close, I looked up, and we were standing beside the fountain at Piazza Centrale.

I eyed the swirling water nervously, remembering what had happened when I’d taken a sip in her apartment.

She, on the other hand, was no longer bound by that particular piece of the curse, and she reached in and swirled her fingers around in the clear water.

"Why can you touch the water and I can’t?" I asked, feeling an uncomfortable tickling sensation at the back of my throat. I was thirsty, but I knew it wasn’t for this.

She glanced over her shoulder at me. "You think I understand her reasons for anything?" Her tone was flat, with just the slightest hint of incredulity. "If we’ve learned anything about her, it’s probably safe to guess that she just wanted to make things harder on us."

Her face collapsed into a frown. "Or," she said, chewing on her bottom lip in the frustrated way she sometimes did, "maybe it’s something to do with the fact that I’m… free." She struggled to get the last word out before turning her attention back to the water. "I’m sure you’ve noticed that you’re thirsty again," she said, quieter.

I nodded. She couldn’t see me, but she seemed to sense my response anyway.

"That’s another thing that’s different." She didn’t look at me as she spoke, addressing every word to the statue above us. "When we woke up, we just needed to feed once, and we were fine until the next month. But now, I can already feel myself needing more. I never felt thirsty when we were encased in stone, but it was always there when we were awake. I can only imagine that the volume necessary for survival has increased to match the extra energy expenditure."

I swallowed against the sensation in my throat.

She straightened and removed her hand from the water, shaking it dry carefully, so that nothing sprayed onto my skin.

"I think we’ll be okay tonight," she said. "At least, I hope so, because I don’t have the energy to go hunting." Her lips pulled into the facsimile of a smile. "But tomorrow, we should probably do something about it. If you come to the apartment, I’ll go find someone to drink from, and you can drink from me again, if that’s easier—"

"No." I cut her off harshly, surprising even myself. Her mouth snapped shut audibly, and she raised her eyebrows. "Sorry," I said, more quietly. "But I don’t think that’s a good idea."

I tried to make myself forget the way it had felt to drink from her before. Tried to shake the noises she had made from my memory.

I tried to erase everything that had happened next…

We couldn’t do that again. Because I didn’t know if I’d be able to stop if it happened a second time.

"I mean," I continued, trying to sound nonchalant. "I’m going to have to learn how to hunt at some point, right? We don’t know how long it’ll take to break this curse, and I can’t just keep relying on you to feed me for years."

I laughed, but she didn’t join in. Instead, her face collapsed. Her eyes fell to the ground at our feet, and her shoulders slumped.

She looked like she was about to… cry. And the thought alarmed me so much that I didn’t think before reaching out and grasping her shoulders with both hands.

"Hey," I said as gently as I could manage. I was tempted to pull her close, but thought better of it. "Hey, hey, hey. I’m sorry. I was just teasing…"

I trailed off. She refused to look at me.

Around us, a few bystanders were starting to notice. They giggled and pointed, clearly trying (and failing) to be discreet about it.

Marella glared at them. She shook off my hands and turned away from the fountain, marching towards the apartment building. I trailed after her, wondering what I’d said to elicit such an emotional response.

Thankfully, the entrance was at least somewhat private, hidden off to the side of the piazza. When we reached the door, she paused before going inside.

She turned to look at me, face partially obscured by shadows, but I could still see the bright green of her eyes as they studied me.

The intensity of her gaze made me feel like an insect, pinned to a wall. I could see the glittering tracks of tears sliding down her cheeks. In that moment, all I wanted was to reach out and touch them, to wipe them away. I wanted to be the reason they disappeared, not the root of their existence.

And so, I raised my hand, slowly, and placed it against the side of her face. I heard her breath catch, watched as her eyes closed, and she tilted her head ever so slightly into my touch.