Her smile might slip if she knew he looked at her and saw the blue light as the sun dappling down through the sea. A part of her might sigh to know that even on land, where she hides her smiles, her sharp-toothed gaze, she cannot be rid of the sea. There is salt in her veins, it is pressed deep into her skin. It taints her kisses and her touch. Shells hang from her hair, though she has swapped most for flowers and jewels found along her travels here.
He speaks of a future, one where he is nothing like the man before her. Sereia studies him, she lets her gaze roam across his body - though it is risky, though her teeth know how soft his muscles would be between her jaws. Her gaze is fleeting, swiftly there and then gone. It is his face she lingers on, remembering the angles. Remembering the face of a boy destined for bigger things. What secrets did the future hold for him? Was there any hint of his future there, lying secret in the crinkles around his eyes and the curl of his lips? Would she recognise him in 7 years time?
“I am not a patient soul.” Sereia says and her smile mirrors his. She has never given much thought to what the future held for her. Each day that she did not break was a blessed one. Each day she filled herself brimful with what was - fairytales, ruins, shipwrecks. He was a boy of the future and she, a girl of the past.
“What if I do not know you then?” The girl muses and turns from him. His heartbeat thrums in her ears. She can feel it on her tongue. His blood is vibrant, it sings to her. Slipping for but a moment, her eyes fall to where his pulse beats at the junction of his neck and shoulder. There is a longing that passes across her gaze, It is sad and deep as a river. It passes like a spring shower.
The girl who returns her gaze to him does not yearn, all of her is soft with smiles and angular with hunger. “Trouble.” Beneath the wave of her hair she studies him. “If there was trouble to be found tonight, I reckon I would find you in the midst of it.” Her smile is wicked when it comes. She softens the corners of it, fragile as petals. But the kelpie is rousing. She watches him and her stomach twists with painful desire.
“Food.” The girl then says with a bright smile upon her cheeks, as if the idea was not dust upon her tongue. “I would find the sweetest thing to eat and then see what magic stalls can breed mystery into my bones.” She departs from him, one step and then two. Slowly she looks back at him - the moon searching for the sun that follows her. “If this fayre could give you anything to eat tonight, what would it be?”
@Caspian
