Waters Edge

Chapter Eight: Walking on Two Legs

I stare in shock at the pale legs drawn up to his chest as his mouth hangs open gulping in huge lung-fills of air. "Patrick what happened to you?" I stare in shock as tears spill over his cheeks.

"Patrick save Peeete." He whispers in the smallest most broken of voice and I feel it tugging at my heartstrings. I try to figure out just what he must mean but my voice comes up with only a question, why would he rescue me from the storm possibly have to do with him having legs?

I reach my hand out toward him slowly, like he is some sort of wild animal poised to bite my hand off. "Come on Patrick, I can't leave you here. Come Pete will take you somewhere warm, safe. You can't stay out here in the water." He looks up at me with wide eyes tears still pouring down his cheeks. I feel sadness fill me as well, he has no idea what I am telling him, only picking up certain words. For all, he knows I could be asking him to jump off a cliff.

I place my hand on his cheek and wipe away the tears I place my hand on my chest. "Safe," I say softly, I take his hand and try to pull him up standing. Only to realize Patrick is very much now human.

A human with all associated male parts. I look away quickly and feel a blush creep onto my face. I quickly pull off my shirt and hold it out to Patrick. I look back and his eyes look so confused. I carefully bunch it up so I have the head hole stretched out and pull it over the top of his head. He squeaks but doesn't fight me on it.

The shirt is a bit big on him, but that is good because I have no pants to offer him at the moment. I help him pull his arms through the proper holes and try to get him to stand one again. He shoves off of the ground but as soon as he does his knees buckle and he falls, I manage to catch him before he hits the water and supports his arms as he looks up at me with fearful eyes. I gulp as he stares into my eyes and it is then that I notice the gold flecks scattering his irises I lick my lips and he looks down at his legs I follow his gaze and his legs are trembling.

I don't think twice before scooping him up in my arms. He is actually quite small and light. He gazes up at me in wonder and then grabs the flashlight from my hand. I carry him bridal style up onto the shore he looks at the sand uneasily and then looks back at the water. Every step he squirms more and more, uncomfortable with leaving the only place he has ever known. He looks incredibly pale under the moonlight, almost translucent, his eyes are still red and puffy from crying and I feel another pang of sadness as he doesn't take his eyes off the water as we begin to climb up the hill away from the beach. By the time we get back to my house, my arms ache like crazy but I refuse to put Patrick down who mostly keeps his eyes downcast but occasionally looks around.

I kick open the door and duck inside. I place him down gently on the bed, his skin is so smooth and soft that I almost miss holding him already, I shake away the thought and run to grab him a pair of boxers. I look back and he is sitting there still on my bed staring at his legs and wiggling his toes. He has a soft smile on his face that makes the tight ball of anxiety building within me loosen.

I find a pair of boxers and rush back. "Here Patrick put these on." I hand them to him and he looks up at me confused. Running his fingers over the fabric and unfolding them holding them up to look at them.

"Why Peete?" The way he says my name makes me shiver, I love the sound of his voice.

"It is just kind of normal for people to wear them, or like most men. See!" I blurt almost too loudly gesturing to my lower half "I wear them too." I cringe realizing I sound like I am talking to a toddler, I need to remember that Patrick is probably very smart he just doesn't know English at all. Patrick's eyes flicker down to my jeans, which are soaking wet from the water and he reaches a hand and runs it down my knee.

"Peete should no wear." I look down at his hand and then up to his face another blush forming on my face. I haven't blushed this much since grade school what is happening to me? My eyes flicker back to his and I smile at him. "Peete would make good merman." His eyes flicker to mine.

"Patrick would make a good human if he puts on the clothes." He pouts looking back at the boxers spread out over his knees. He sighs and then tries to pull them on, which is quite comical because he has absolutely no eye-foot coordination. I can't help the laugh that escapes my lips as he struggles to push a leg through one of the holes. I jump on the bed and rest on my knees by his feet and take the boxers from his hands.

I turn them the right way and gingerly lift his ankle. I can hear the quick breath he sucks in as I gently pull his foot through the grey boxers. I do the same with his other one and pull it as far up his legs as I can manage in this position. "Do you think you could stand up for a second?" Patrick stares at me blankly and I almost face-palm. Of course, he has no idea what that means. I stand and grab his hands pulling him up off the bed. I quickly pull the boxers over his hips and shimmy them to make sure everything is in a comfortable spot.

"There all good now." I smile at Patrick and he sways slightly on his feet grabbing my biceps to keep his balance but doesn't make a move to sit back down. When he almost trips on his own feet I quickly grab his waist. I can't help the streak of happiness I get from seeing him standing in my house, wearing my clothes.

"Why this?" He asks pulling at his shirt and then mine. I let out a laugh.

"Well, yours was to keep you warm and covered, as for mine I really don't know." I don't know what possesses me at that moment but I take a half step back, Patrick lets go and I pull off my shirt. I hear the quick breath he takes in and his eyes look over my chest with curiosity.

"Beautiful," Patrick whispers fingertips coming up to trace the necklace of thorns on my collarbone. I feel yet another blush coming on.

"Okay time for sleep," I say taking a step forward causing the back of Patrick's knees to hit the edge of the bed, he almost falls onto it but he holds tight to my arms. He gives me a very confused look. "You know the time to uh dream and stuff?" I try again, Patrick's questioning gaze remains on his face. "Time to rest Patrick," I say softly and push him gently so he is sitting down on the bed.

I make my way to the other side of the queen-sized mattress, quickly kicking off my wet jeans, leaving me in my thankfully dry boxers and get under the covers. Laying down on the one side, I wish I had a couch so I could give Patrick some privacy at this moment where he must have a million questions he cannot ask, I know I have many that I wish I could ask him at the moment. He seems to not be mad however as he gets under the blankets and shuffles toward me wrapping his arm over my stomach, his hands are so cold on my warm chest that it sends shivers right down my spine.

I tenderly wrap my arm around him as well, not sure what the social protocol is in this situation I just go with the flow. He smells like salt water and yet I have never smelt anything better. I drift off to sleep with the feeling of Patrick tracing the shapes on my shoulder.