Queen Of The Tide

Mystery girl

History has always made me feel understood.

I like to read about ancient civilizations and then draw out the story. It helps me disconnect from the present and get lost in the past. 

Books helped me escape a lot of things. So did art.

But the thing is that, at first, Damon would hit me and would buy me art supplies to compensate.

And now whenever I touch paint...it brings back memories that I would much rather forget.

      That aside, here I am, sitting in the royal library.

It's a dark yet somehow cozy place. Brown walls, ivory shelves that has gotten a yellowish tint, courtesy of passing time.

     This is the first time I have been back in the library since me and Esmeray were somehow transported into a 'paradise' that turned out to be basically a prison then she reconnected with her teenage lover who turned out to be a maniac who stabbed the 'love of his life' then Esmeray's lost mother came back and now there are talks of the rebellion being fired up again. Moreover, Essie's monster of a father killed Azrael's family and she got kidnapped. 

So yeah, it's been a fun few weeks. 

"Hey there, pearl." The deep voice that I've grown to adore so very much calls out. 

And before you know it, I am brushing down my dress and fixing my hair as he comes closer. 

"Hey," I say with a smile that I hoped was sweet but not too sweet. "What's up?"

"Nothin' much. Just wanted to check up on you. You know, with everything's that has been happening, I wanted you to still feel...safe."

How can I not, with you here? 

"I am doing okay. As usual. How about you?"

"So-so."

I want to continue this conversation but I get that he'll probably get bored.

"What you reading?" 

"History of Queloband. It's tragic. Like most of history is. But I think that's what makes it such a special subject, y'know. As Esmeray said, the past, no matter how long ago it happened, shapes the present."

"Sometimes I forget that Essie is actually a really philosophical and intellectual person and not just a bitch-faced rebel princess who hates people."

That does sum up her personality.

I think she's a great girl but she has a lot to unpack. So do I. We're similar that way.

But we're also very different people. Very.

"She has many shades."

He nods and pulls out a chair, placing it close to mine as he rests himself on it.

He's a bit too close for me to maintain my composure but that's normal. He's an attractive man. That's it. No feelings have to be involved. Right?

"Something on your mind?" His voice is low and soft. As it always is around me. As if anything else would shatter me.

"Not really. I just miss my family sometimes and our tiny little town. We were not rich at all and had a little less than enough money but we were happy. I had a dog. His name was Mr. Paws. I was a father's girl, you know? I loved my father so much. It pains me to see Esmeray hate hers and her father proving that she is right to, all the time. I wish she knew what a real parent feels like. I wish you knew too."

"Maybe I can be that parent to my kids someday?"

"You want kids?" I ask, surprised. He didn't seem like the kind of guy who would settle down with another person, build a home and lead a soft, slow, sweet kind of a life.

The kind of life I want. 

"I know it's surprising but yes, I do. I love kids. And I'd love to have my own.  A boy and a girl. And maybe a cute dog with an even cuter name. I'd give up everything for that safe kind of family."

"That's really sweet. Whoever gets to lead that life with you is going to be so lucky. Do you have anyone in mind?"

"I... sort of do. But I want to keeps things slow. It's going very, very fast and I don't scare her away. I want her to find herself first before I get lost in her."

I feel a pang of irrational jealousy in my chest right where the heart is supposed to be. 

"Is she nice?"

"Very."

"Smart? Kind? Pretty?" Stop it, Ocean.

"Yes, double yes, a million times yes."

It takes me a minute to realise just how close he is. 

Close enough that if I adjust myself and straighten my spine, my lips would be on his. 

I look down at my fingers, still turned towards him. I can't bring myself to turn away. 

He's staring at me. I can feel it. And as much as I hate to admit it, through all the insecurity and confusion, I am enjoying it so, so much. 

I look up, his lips stretching into a smile that could win and break hearts on spot. 

"She's very pretty," He whispers, his voice hoarse yet so perfect.

I blink at him. 

Why did he have to bring her up?

I look back down.

"I just wish she was a little less oblivious."