Page 13 of Seashells and Daiquiris

Kira’s brown brows raise. “Technically she can’t curse you without there being a break in the curse, so I mean, at some point, we have to be able to actually break it… but the new girl is cute, though," Kira adds, casual, like she's commenting on the weather, eyeing me like she’s hoping for more conversation.

I don't say anything, because she’s not wrong. I make it a point not to get caught up in these poor women, because how fair is that? I look away to hide a slight smirk, because the shit that shell was saying for Freddie was so damn funny. And the way she look mortified… I’d climb you like a tree… I’d let you harpoon me.

“You know I don’t date anymore, or do anything with someone the shell picked,” I say, cleaning out both our shot glasses.

“I know, I know. How about this, maybe we visit Morwen.”

I grunt and sit down at the bar, leaning slightly so one leg is straight out. “It’s such a bitch getting to his island,” I say, although that’s only a small reason I haven’t gone in six years.

She grins and raises both hands. “Well, at some point you got to do yourself a favor. Because you deserve to have someone, Liam. And the shell's clearly got taste."

I exhale and lean both hands against the bar. The wood is cool and solid and real, which is more than I can say about most things in my life. "She’s funny, too,” I admit, because there's no point in lying to Kira and she'll just keep pushing until I say it. There was something in Freddie's eyes when she said I can't feel anything anymore. A flatness. Not dramatic, not performed. Just... empty. The same kind of empty I see in the mirror every morning.

Because of the whole missing a heart bit. I doubt hers is the same. What has happened in her life that makes her feel that way?

My eyes widen a bit. “She did say she dreamt of it… none of the others have said that so far,” I blink and look away, shaking my head. “Probably just another Thalassa special… this is just shit timing with Thalassa being here this full moon,” I glance at Kira. “Last time that happened she made it so hard on that selkie. Imagine being that way with a human who isn’t from here?”

“Just keep her away from Silvertide, and it’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” I say. That’s where our gathering this year will be, where Thalassa will appear. Last time her and I got into a rather large fight because I demanded her to break the damn curse, to which we both ended up bruised and scratched. She tried to fuck me after, but I rejected her as hard as I possibly can. “Anyway, see you tomorrow,” I say, tapping the table.

“Aye, aye, heartless lover man.”

I head out into the night, the street lamps lit with real fire that magically come on when it gets too dark.

I think about the way Freddie’s face went red when the shell said the thing about my hands. The way she growled shut up at her own purse.

It would be nice to see her blush like that again.

That thought catches me off guard, because I’m usually more guarded with letting my mind wander. Since removing my heart, it’s like emotions just can’t land like they used to. That sense of wanting to see Freddie’s face contort with mortification at how much she clearly wants me, at how much that shell is probably speaking an honest truth, feels more like a memory of what wanting something is like. An echo.

It’s a reason I just keep my distance until the kiss, so the shell can wash up to someone else’s doorstep.

Except, this one… she dreamt about it.

The ocean is dark and breathing as I finally approach it. I strip off my clothes and walk into the shallows, letting the water climb past my knees, my waist, my chest. It’s never cold like how someone not from the ocean might feel, more like a soothing embrace to my skin. When it hits my shoulders, something in me loosens, like my body remembers what my heart can't. I dive into the waves, gills opening immediately on my neck as I swim further out. Just until I reach a spot where the waves don’t crash.

I remain with my two legs, floating on my back and staring at the sky as my body rolls with the water, the wetness of the ocean filtering through my gills to wetten my lungs. It’s weird living on land, because I can technically do it for forever. But there’s something about saturating my body both externally and internally with salt water that’s akin to a refreshing drink after a very long, hard day. I don’t turn into my full form much these days. It’s like the curse killed my adventurous side, too. Like returning to the water as the ocean created me… I admit, I’m bitter.

I try not to think about Miss brown hair and green eyes. I wonder what kind of romance she writes? I grin to myself, my head slightly rolling with the current, water flowing in and out of the gills in my neck, when I wonder if her books are as dirty as that shell.

It’s been a bit since a human was so fun to mess with⁠—

My brows furrow, and I focus my attention through my body.

There’s an energy in the current. A shift, like something cold threading through the warm tide like a vein of ice. I know this feeling. Fuck me.

Thalassa.

She's not here. Not physically. But she's close to the surface, somewhere out there in the deep water, and she's upset. I can feel it the way you feel a storm coming—pressure change, electric charge, and just a deep sensation of knowing.

There’s a faintness to it that makes me believe she’s not in the waters herself, but ever since the curse, she can effect me through the ocean. It’s another layer that has pissed me off, because it ruins being in here. A wave pushes me hard, like it’s carrying back toward the shore.

Fuck, that sea witch better not be texting me. When another wave pushes me harder than usual, I roll my eyes, diving underneath to swim back to shore.

This curse is starting to get too old for me. It was manageable for a time, with what was happening in my life, but she can’t keep ruining fun connections and ruining my time in the ocean.

When I emerge, water dripping down my body, especially from my hair, I sit down on the sand and grab my phone. A lot of non-water magic folk tend to freeze in such a transition, but the most I feel is just an overwhelming sense of becoming dry.