Page 54 of She Who Was Once the Sea

I lifted my thumb and brought it back down at the corner of her lips, then gently swiped it upward, towards her eye.

When she didn’t move away, I repeated the movement with my other hand, wiping at both sides of her face until the tears were gone. All the while, her eyes fluttered, but didn’t open.

I looked at her lips, at the way they were parted, just slightly, beneath my fingers. Without meaning to, I had moved closer to her. Our faces were close enough that I could feel her breath against my nose.

When I looked up again, her eyes were open. She lowered them a fraction, to my lips, before raising them again.

The air between us thrummed with heavy anticipation. It was like last night, but softer, thicker, and slower.

This time, when I bent down to kiss her, I didn’t feel rushed or frantic or desperate.

This time, when our lips met, they melded together like waves and sand, pushing and pulling and sliding. Her arms wrapped around my back, and I slid my fingers away from her face and into her hair, letting the soft, silky strands slide around my knuckles.

I felt my heartbeat in every part of my body, like I was tumbling down a rollercoaster with no end in sight.

And then, just as suddenly as it began, she pulled away. The places where her arms had been felt cold in the night air.

She turned her face from me and stepped backwards until her back hit the door.

"I’m sorry," was all she said as she wiped the back of her hand against her lips.

"I’m sorry," she repeated as she fumbled for her keys—the keys I’d given her just a couple of days prior.

When she finally looked at me again, her eyes held more weight than I ever thought one person could carry.

"I’m so sorry," she said again.

This time, when she said the words, she swung open the door, stepped inside, and swung it closed. But just before it shut completely, she spoke again. "Meet me here tomorrow. I’ll take you hunting."

And then, there was nothing but wood and metal in my face, and I was left standing there, alone, my hands still raised, holding onto the ghost of her presence.

Chapter 24 - Marella

Iwas so incredibly fucked.

I tossed and turned in my bed for the rest of the night, unable to erase the feeling of his lips against mine, and unable to counteract the guilt that was eating away at my soul.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

I was supposed to make him fall in love with me. But that clearly hadn't happened, because my teeth were still pointed and my throat still stung with the need to drink blood, and no matter how many glasses of water I sucked down, it wouldn't go away.

And there was something else there.

Something, in the pit of my stomach, that I knew wouldn’t disappear with water or blood or vengeance or violence.

It was a soft, dangerous little thing, and no matter how hard I tried to shove it down, all it did was grow and grow and grow.

And the worst part was, I knew that it was feeding her. The more this needy little piece of me consumed, the stronger she became. And the more I tried to quell its presence, the more insistent it became.

I drew myself a bath in the deep basin and crawled inside. The water was freezing cold, but that was how I liked it. It reminded me of the sea.

When I slid beneath the surface, I held my breath for as long as physically possible, keeping my eyes open and staring at the swirling, blurring ceiling above me. When I closed them, I saw his face painted across my eyelids.

And when I opened them again, the image was burned into my retinas.

He was everywhere, even when he was nowhere to be found.

I stayed that way for so long that the edges of my vision started turning black. When my lungs began to scream for air, I pushed myself up, splashing water all over the floor of the bathroom.