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He was so much faster than her, and Christine didn’t care.
She kept in the direction she was going, black tail rippling as she swam forwards, fast but not desperately so – speed for fun rather than necessity.
Sometimes, Erik was just a flash in the distance moving through dark water, behind a spire of rock, the glitter of gold eyes that was more precious to her than any sunken treasure, though when he first courted her, he’d offered her some of that, too.
Other times, he’d swim beside her, his long red and black tail alongside Christine’s black scales.
Once, he even came from above, long arms wrapping around her from behind, and they swam like that for a time, almost as if they were one creature with two tails and two hearts. Christine had taken his hands in hers, admiring Erik’s long, slender fingers.
When they reached the cove, they swam through the shallows to the beach, pulling themselves the last few feet over the sand until they were mostly out of the water, only the ends of their tails still in the sea. The cliffs here were so high that no human would ever dare climb down them. They had the beach all to themselves.
They lay on their backs, Erik staring at the grey-cast sky, Christine looking at Erik, looking at his profile.
When they’d first met, he’d worn his hair unusually short for a mer, though the style had looked well on him, but lately he’d allowed it to grow longer. It nearly brushed his shoulders now, curling slightly at the tips as it dried in the air. A few gold beads glittered in it, though it was still too short to properly braid. The gold matched his eyes.
Smooth sand at her back, Christine reached out and took his hand. Erik smiled and pressed it to his lipless mouth.
Christine waited a few moments to enjoy the sensation before she pounced, rolling onto her side before bracing herself over Erik, her hands at either side of his head.
Suddenly finding Christine above him, Erik gave a quiet laugh, gills briefly flaring.
Christine leaned down to kiss him, and Erik put his arms around her, pulling her close. He tilted his head up for the kiss, exposing the long column of his throat.
Christine ran her fingers through Erik’s wet hair. “I like it longer.”
“I suppose it is growing out a bit,” replied Erik, glancing away from her, suddenly shy. Christine knew he would probably never admit to growing it out deliberately, would never admit to a deliberate attempt to look prettier for her. But she noticed all the same.
She kissed him on the cheek, knowing that it would make him look up at her again. He held her tighter. “I like seeing you framed by sky. My face wasn’t made for daylight, but yours was.”
“You’re only saying that because you can’t see how bright your eyes look under the sun.” Christine traced a finger along the angular line of his cheekbone. “But I can.”