First Impressions aren't Everything | Jamilton | Mermaid/Siren/Whatev Au

A new beginning (1)

"C'mon Jemmy! There's one over there," the little boy yelped with eagerness, his head full of curls flying only slightly behind.

"Tom, the beach ain't going anywhere soon."

Both boys had rolled their pant sleeves up long ago in preparation for their evening out. Though, the shorter boy, with, not quite a bored but rather, indifferent expression, personally didn't need to do such thing. They both knew who would need to put effort into keeping their clothes clean in order to avoid a scolding later from a parent.

Thomas whipped around midstep, his magenta shirt already disheveled from his running. He spluttered, "Duh! But the faster we are, the sooner we can get the shell!"

The child turned once more as his friend sighed a little too exasperatedly for a nine year old. Honestly, Thomas loves James, but he simply can't wrap his head around the boy's tranquil
nature sometimes.

With speckles of sand being kicked behind him, the excited child made a beeline for his prize: the large conch shell.

James, on the other hand, walked towards the edge of the shore where the water was barely lapping at the land. Shoeless, he let the calming sea sink him into the sand as it both softened and hardened the area encasing his feet. He heard his best friend's victorious shout and it only took a few moments until Thomas had joined the other boy on the edge of the water, said prize in hand.

"James, look at the size of this one!" Thomas gestured the shell towards him for emphasis.

"Hmm.." James spared a semi-interested look at his friend and his newly acquired shell before a small, but mischievous, smirk grew on his face.

"Ah, yes. A case for a most-likely-still-in-there corpse of a mollusk."

The desired affect was almost immediate. With an embarrassingly high pitched yelped, Thomas practically threw the shell in the air before holding it straight out with his arms while shaking heavily. Perhaps being the loudest sound the child has made that day, James's laughter rang out on the empty beach.

Well, the beach on its own was empty. The water was another story.

"Ja-ames!.." Even the eight year old's voice trembled. James only responded with more laughter, much to the former's chagrin.

The boys had the pleasure to enjoy the beach all on their own today. It had been too crowded to fully enjoy the shore on the other days of their vacation. The two were currently visiting with their respective families together in Saint Kitts, a small country in the Caribbean.

The billows of clouds slowly and steadily rolled above; the reason they can have this shore to themselves. It's supposedly going to storm that night and that had left the beach free from tourists. Most tourists at least. The boys weren't even supposed to be this close to the approaching storm anyway. But if anyone asked, they didn't hear the warning from Mrs. Madison to stay away from the empty beach when they left.

Well, empty-ish, for a specific being had decided to watch the two children. After all, it was much more convenient than a crowd of people. Less chances of getting caught.

James finally calmed down enough to see Thomas's conflicting distress as he stared at the hopefully empty shell with mortification. Catching onto the soon-to-be-tears demeanor, James began to console his dear friend.

"Hey, I'm... I'm sure it's not dead and- and I'm sure it... I don't think it would- it wouldn't still be in there! Maybe... the conch had moved on to another shell, like hermit crabs," James hurriedly said.

Thomas turned with already glassy eyes towards his friend, "Conchs, don't work that way, James... they- they're like- they grow their shells like snails. You're right, it's still... it was too far inland and there's bleached marks on it from being in the sun for too long... it- it's still..."