Renesmee, a mermaid who broke a sacred law, is exiled to live in the human world for retribution. But her other half, Sardina, fights to find a way to reunite them again.
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Wh...
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"Here." I handed Sardina my favorite t-shirt.
It was black, with a little art sketch of Lofi girl on the front.
"Thanks." She took it, moving away as she studied the room like it had anything interesting in it.
I threw her a pair of khaki shorts too, which she failed to catch, but picked them up anyway.
Sardina turned her attention to the clothes I had given her, examining them like a scientist searching for an error in the components of her experiments. She looked up and caught me staring, and I swore her face reddened. I bit back a smile. When did she get so fucking adorable?
I decided to spare her the mercy I didn't have and turn away because the girl was getting redder and redder.
"You two–um– make a beautiful couple." She marked out of nowhere.
Oh.
"T–thanks." I managed to play along. "She's my boss's daughter."
Sardina simply nodded before turning around to take off her wet dress.
It was tempting to watch her, but realizing how creepy I was being, I hastily turned around too.
"Is that how you met her? At work?"
Something in the air was tense. But I couldn't tell what.
"N–no. It's actually the other way around. I met her, then she got me the job."
My eyes caught the sight of Sardina's bare back on the mirror and I swallowed hard, internally cursing myself and forcing my eyes closed so they wouldn't dare wander away without my consent again.
Why did her skin have to look so delicate? Come to think of it, I had never stared at a girl, not even my girlfriend the way I stared at my best friend.
Best friend.
Just best friends.
That's what we were and should be.
Best best best friends.
Me and Dina were both silent as we changed. The tension still hung thick in the air and I tried to think of something – anything to ease it down, but couldn't.
So I pulled on a white shirt and a pair of sweatpants, forcing my mind to think about everything and anything but the girl on the other side of the room.
The idea of having Sardina in my bedroom made me randomly overconscious of my surroundings. I wasn't the kind of person who cared about what people thought of my space, but out of nowhere, the bedroom looked too unkempt to my eyes. Too bland. Heck – the place had nothing much except for the bed, the cupboard, and the dressing table that I could barely remember using.
