Work Text:
Amelia grew up by the sea. It was where the surf was always white foam and the sand was tossed up by the wind into great dunes. And if you were to go back a few paces, you would reach soft grass, brushing aged fence posts. But the sand was preferable when warmed by the sun, and the grass sometimes made Amelia’s ankles itch.
Amelia grew up by the sea and it was in her lungs. Her heartbeat. Her feet knew the pound of its waves and she ran in rhythm with it. Her stubby legs took her as far as she could go, until she could just see the other end of the cove. Then her mother would call her back, tell her it was time to go home for dinner.
It was always one last longing glance at the water, the sea that glimmered under the setting sun. She envied the few boats that got to remain in those still waters, that had salt and brine woven into their boards like Amelia wished would happen with her bones. She’d seen them push out from the docks, thick boots and oiled coats donned upon every body that worked on the decks.
It wasn’t that hard to sneak onto one. It rocked from the bustle of countless feet above her head, her body tucked into the space beneath the captain’s desk. Amelia could smell the seaweed. She heard the scrape of barnacles and mussels being removed from the hull. She smiled a small, secret smile that nobody else could see. She felt very cool, and very mischievous.
The boat rocked in the waves as they set sail. Amelia could tell by the colors changing out the portside window. Brown wood gave way to open waters. The rough splashing of waves against the rocks by the wharf lightened into light lapping against the hull.
Amelia uncurled herself from her hiding spot when the murmuring ceased as the sailors settled into their beds. The captain snored from his own cot, loud enough to cover up any noise Amelia made. She dusted off her boots and tugged her hat on tight.
The deck was quiet and dark. The nets were cast out and small lights bobbed in the water for the crab pots.
“Yes,” Amelia fist pumped the air. “Did it!” She leaned eagerly over the edge of the boat.
The waters around were dark, ominously so. It looked nothing like how it did in the day, when the sun glimmered off the surface like spilled gold. This was ink, dark abyss, depths far beyond Amelia’s bathtub.
“Oh,” she said. She felt very small, and very afraid.
The boat rocked, more and more as the wind picked up. Amelia wobbled back as the boat heaved forward. She felt weightless. Her head went down and her legs went up and she met freezing cold water face first.
It was an immediate shock. She flailed, mouth opening to yell for help before salt rushed in. Amelia was coughing and bringing in more water, her body sinking below the surface further and further. The darkness all around her was cold, her nose stung from the seawater, and Amelia wanted desperately to go home.
Then she was lying on the sandy beaches of the mainland. It clung to her skin with a gritty feeling that she always hated whenever she was leaving the beach, but right then it was the most glorious feeling ever. Amelia burbled out a wet laugh, stubby arms shooting straight out in victory and almost hitting someone in the face.
“Oh! I’m sorry.” Amelia’s mother always impressed upon her the importance of good manners. “I didn’t mean to almost hit you.”
Glowing eyes peered out of the dark. Waterlogged hair that dripped onto bare shoulders. Flat chest and muscled torso, but with hints of baby fat where the stomach turned into a tail.
“Hi,” Amelia said, breathless. Her chin stung, and she clutched her hat tight to her chest. The creature studied this motion, and slowly brought Amelia’s left boot up in a similar grip. Amelia hadn’t even noticed she was missing a shoe. “Um, that’s mine.”
The creature cocked their head to the side. Amelia smiled nervously. Said smile died when the creature mimicked this as well, revealing sharp teeth.
“Never mind,” she said, nodding firmly. “That’s yours now.”
The mermaid seemed pleased, chirping out their appreciation. They even did a little roll in the surf, tail flopping around.
Amelia swallowed. “Thank you.” The creature chuffed in confusion. “For saving me,” she clarified.
The mermaid drew itself further on land. Their scales were dull in the low light, but it reminded Amelia of the metal of her bedside lamp at home. When the sun hit it just right, it glowed like the sunset.
“You’re pretty,” Amelia breathed. The creature blinked and retreated, throwing itself back in the water before resurfacing a few feet away. It had left Amelia’s boot behind.
Slowly, Amelia stood. She shivered as she pulled her shoe back on, ignoring the sand inside it in favor of the mermaid.
“Are you always here?” Amelia asked.
The creature blinked, then nodded slowly. Amelia was pretty sure it understood. She grinned, wide.
“Can I see you tomorrow?” She asked excitedly.
Another blink. Another slow nod. Amelia restrained a squeal, instead donning a very serious and officious expression like her dad put on when they were going to have an important talk.
With a deep voice, Amelia said, “I will see you then.” Bubbles escaped from around the creature’s head as if it were laughing. Then it ducked underneath the waves, with nary a ripple betraying its departure.
Amelia watched it go, before she heard the calls of the townspeople along with shining searchlights.
“Oh,” she said. Consequences.
-
-
“We cannot play tag.” Gigi crossed her arms. This would look intimidating if it weren’t for the fact that she had to lie down on the ground for it. “You always win.”
“Well we can’t race.” Amelia splashed Gigi half-heartedly. “You always win.”
Gigi threw her hands up in the air and flopped backward. Her tail was much longer than what it was when she and Amelia first met, and it nearly clipped Amelia on the nose. “We are at an impass-ay.”
“Impasse,” Amelia corrected. “The last letter is silent.”
Gigi groaned, a deep and rumbling thing down in her sternum. She clawed at the air as if it were the English language and she could kill it. “Then why is it there?”
Amelia shrugged. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I just bring the books.”
“Then why didn’t you bring me any today?” Gigi rolled back over onto her stomach. She picked between her scales with a small brush she had in a pouch slung over her shoulder. When Amelia asked why it wasn’t around her waist, the look she had given her made Amelia not ask any more questions for the rest of the day.
“The library got mad,” Amelia sighed. “Too many watermarks.”
“You should make tougher books.” Gigi nodded as if this were the sure answer. “Ones that don’t get wet.”
“I think that relies on you not being wet.” Amelia played with a shard of shell before tossing it to Gigi, who caught it in her mouth with a crunch.
“Hey!” Gigi grinned. “Cal-cee-yum!”
Amelia grinned too. “That’s right!” Then she frowned. “Was that a pun?”
Gigi blinked. She cocked her head to the side and splashed with her tail, chuffing a bit when a stray strand of seaweed tangled with her fins. “What’s a pun?”
There was a clanging of a loud bell, four times in quick succession. Gigi hissed, ducking her head underwater till the sound stopped, before warily rising back out of the water with narrowed eyes.
“I’ll teach you later, I’ve gotta go,” Amelia got to her feet, dusting her knees off and checking for any sand on her pants. “Afternoon class.”
Pouting, Gigi tried to get Ame with a splash of water, but she dodged. “Skip?”
“Already did that too many times,” Amelia heaved her bag over her shoulder. “They’re onto me.” She smiled and reached out, scratching behind Gigi’s ear. Gigi purred, eyes fluttering shut as she luxuriated in both the touch and the warm sun. “I’ll be back tonight though! After dinner.”
“Bring back those sweet things!” Gigi’s eyes narrowed in concentration. “Those, pey-ers.”
“Pears?” At Gigi’s enthusiastic nod, Amelia giggled. “Yeah, ‘f’course.” She hitched her bag up higher as she began to run away to where she’d placed her shoes. “See you Gigi!”
Gigi watched her go with a slow wave in return.
“I think I did that right,” she muttered.
-
-
It wasn’t hard for Amelia to find the creature again. It was early morning and she’d taken to the small cove a basket of trimmings she’d scrounged up from around her house. All it took was her throwing bits of fish and bread into the ocean for it to appear again.
It was a small thing now that she was able to look at it in the light. Its tail was indeed shiny, a golden whip of scale with blotches of black and brown. Its eyes were big, a pale red like the insides of a dead animal. As it dragged its way onto the shore, reaching for the basket, she noticed the claws, the teeth, the broad shoulders.
Amelia backed away as it began to eat, stripping meager strands of meat off of bone before crunching through that too. The bread disappeared, then the rest of the bones. All that was left were the little bits of mushy apple and soggy pear.
The creature looked at the remains. Poked at it with a finger. Very carefully, narrowed eyes trained on Amelia, it put a bit of apple in its mouth.
Its pupils blew wide, its mouth falling open slightly. A raspy rattle, like a ship’s engine starting up, sounded from its heaving chest.
It’s purring, Amelia realized. “Is it good?” She asked.
Tail slapping against the surface of the water, the creature wriggled its joy, quickly shoving more pieces of fruit into its mouth. And when that was gone, it licked the basket clean.
Amelia giggled. “I’m glad you liked it so much,” she said softly.
Like a particularly hyperactive dog, a high pitched huff of air escaped the creature’s grinning mouth. It licked its lips and fingers, shoulders rolling as the sun finally cut through what little clouds remained. Nudging the basket closer, it gave Amelia a pleading look.
Laughing to herself, Amelia picked the basket up, holding it to her chest as she stood. “I’ll get you more,” she promised. “Wait for me?”
The mermaid settled in, chest to the sand, fiddling with a piece of shell that had washed up in the surf. Amelia took that as a yes.
-
-
Amelia took to giving the mermaid food every day when she could. It would roll over giddily whenever it saw her running down the beach of their small, secluded cove. After receiving the basket, it would push toward Amelia a collection of shells, coins, and bits of broken coral.
“Mrrp?” It wouldn’t eat until Amelia had accepted the gifts.
“Thank you,” Amelia cradled them in her hands, admiring the creamy coloring of the shells and trying to decipher the aged writing on the coins. She wondered if they were worth anything. “They’re so pretty. I love it.”
“Well come.” Amelia started. The mermaid smiled.
“Thank you?” Amelia repeated.
The mermaid grinned wide, shark like teeth crowded in her mouth. She was missing one. “Well come!”
“Oh,” Amelia breathed. “Alright then.”
She started bringing books along with the food. Her parents thought she was having little picnics with herself, studying too, and were immensely proud. This helped them overlook the fact that more often than not, the books would return with rather damp pages and clawed at covers.
“It was very exciting,” Amelia would say awkwardly. “I really like… grammar.”
The mermaid seemed to already have a slight understanding of how to speak. Simple words and phrases would get blurted out as Amelia was reading, some relating to the subject, others not so much.
“My name is-” frowning, the mermaid dived under the water, leaving a trail of froth as it swam out far and raced back. “Name?” It asked after popping back out.
“It’s what someone calls you.” Amelia adjusted her position a little, sitting with her legs crossed on the sand, not minding her swim shorts getting wet. “People call me Amelia, because that’s my name.”
Brow furrowing, very obviously concentrating, it mouthed the word. Filled in the vowels and consonants by itself. It smiled triumphantly. “A-may-lee-yuh!”
Amelia laughed, her hair tickling the back of her neck. “Close enough.”
The sound the mermaid made was like when the alleycats started fighting in the middle of the night; a low, sharp yowl. “Ah-may.” It tried.
Amelia blinked. “Ame?”
“Ame!” It tried to do a flip and instead belly flopped onto the shore. Its laugh was squeaky, but with a weird echoey rumble, like it wasn’t exactly capable of laughing but was attempting at the sound anyways. “Gigi!”
“Gigi?” Ame pointed at it. “Gigi?”
It pointed at itself, beaming wide. “Gigi!”
Amelia’s chest felt all fluttery when she walked home. Her hair dried in a frizz, Gigi having splashed her after getting too excited about finally stringing together a decently long sentence. Ame wondered what else she could bring to their beach, what else they could talk about. Friends talked about things, right? They were friends?
“Gigi.” She whispered to herself in the middle of the night, her blankets wound tight around her legs. Amelia felt, just a little bit, like she had a tail too, when she was like this. “Hi Gigi.”
When her eyes finally closed, she thought she could hear the ghost of the sea.
-
-
“I’m so good at this.” Gigi was very smug. She floated next to a rocky outcropping, trying her best to restrain herself. Now was not the time for backflips, even though internal Gigi thought it was always time for back flips.
When the tide lowered, it would dry off into small tide pools. But for now, floating and tied to a nail Gigi had hammered into a crack in the rocks, was a boat. Its mast was snapped in half, and the water pooling inside of it was at least ankle deep. The fact that it was floating at all was a miracle.
Gigi churred to herself, exultant.
“She’ll love it,” she said.
“She will not know what it is.” Ceci was curled up on the rocks, sunning herself. One minty green eye opened to stare at Gigi. “She has not known what anything you have given her is.”
“I’m sure she does,” Gigi argued. “It is very obvious!”
“It is very obvious,” Cecilia repeated dryly. “Shells and bits of human trash are obvious.”
Gigi pouted. She poked at where a bit of paint was peeling off from the hull. “She always says she loves it.”
“She’s humoring you.” Ceci rolled her eyes, sitting up to fiddle with the end of her tail. She adjusted a pin and flared out the treated cloth that worked as her fin. Where the metal base strapped to her stump were pale scars that criss crossed over her light green scales, as if something gnawed on her like a toothpick.
Gigi had learned what a toothpick was yesterday, she was rather proud of the sim-mill-ee.
“I can’t believe,” Ceci continued, “that it was her who got you to finally talk. And I really wish she hadn’t, because now you don’t stop.”
“I think you’re jealous,” Gigi said primly. “That I have a cute human mate and you don’t.”
“I think,” slipping into the water, Cecilia splashed Gigi, “that you are delusional. You should go in the trench and ask for better gills because your gills aren’t working, you’re turning into a freshwater fish-”
“I am not,” Gigi said hotly, after spluttering through a mouthful of the sea. “I’ll prove it! She’ll love this, I know it.”
Cecilia raised an eyebrow. “Tell me how it goes.” But her expression softened a little. She worked off of her tail a little gold bangle that worked to cover up the inner workings. She held it out to Gigi. “And if it doesn’t work, this is more obvious.”
Gigi was reminded, then, of why they were friends. She felt very warm, and very happy. She took the bangle. “Thank you,” she said, meaning it.
“Eh,” Ceci smoothed her hair back, squinting at the horizon. “D’you think she’ll be there today too?”
“I despise you,” Gigi said, not meaning it.
Laughing, Ceci dived down, leaving Gigi behind. Floating, staring at the boat, Gigi slid the bangle onto her wrist for safekeeping.
“She’ll like it,” she whispered. “She’ll love it.”
-
-
There was a drawer that Amelia’s parents didn’t know about. Well they did, but not really. Tucked underneath the shirts and pants that she didn’t wear as often, was a worn shoebox. Its cardboard was wrinkled and its lid was indented slightly. The logo had worn off a while ago, and its contents had been donated long before that.
Now, it was full of shells. Curling nautilus, shards of pearly oyster, one that was long and spiraled like a horn. Wrapped in newspaper, the prized one, a conch of the purest pink. There were some bits of coral in one corner of the shoebox, coins in the other.
(Ame had asked about those. They were worthless, but very old. The museum director asked how in the world she had found them, and then asked if she was alright after she tried to run and slammed into the door.)
By this point, Amelia felt that her own gifts of books and food were not enough. Pathetic in comparison to the intact shells Gigi obviously tried very hard to find for her.
(“I thought you’d like it,” she said one time, offering a cowrie shell. Her nose was bleeding a little and there was a cut on the side of her mouth. “I’m sorry I lost all the other ones, the wreck caved in.”
Ame had taken it from her, and when she got home, didn’t put it in the shoebox. It sits on her nightstand where it taunts her. Nothing is enough.)
This meant that the market had become a reviled place for her. Too many options, all of them perfect and yet, unworthy. She had debated for an hour on whether or not to buy an antique clock before she realized that it would be going underwater at some point. The look the seller had given her when she’d asked if it was waterproof was searing.
“Do you know what she’d like?” Kronii fiddled with one of Ame’s shells before it was snatched from her. “That was rude. Anyways, does she even exist, this feels like a made up girlfriend story-”
“She’s not made up!” Amelia’s cheeks reddened. “And she’s not my girlfriend.”
Kronii’s eyebrow raised. “Is there a ‘yet’ coming?”
“No.” Ame buried her head into her pillowcase. “What do I get herrrrrr.”
“You are very useless,” Kronii observed.
Amelia didn’t even look at her. “And you are very unhelpful. Get out of my house.”
It was so quiet that Ame thought that Kronii had listened.
“I’ll repeat,” Amelia groaned, “oh my god just listen to me. Do you know what she likes?”
Ame thought really hard. “Fish.” She thought harder. “Fruit?”
“Oh you’re a terrible girlfriend.” There was a thump as Kronii’s head hit the side of Amelia’s mattress. “How am I supposed to be the hot maid of honor now?”
“I would have never invited you in the first place.” Amelia realized what she said. “We aren’t datin-”
“I knew it!” Kronii jumped to her feet, already racing to the door while Ame was falling out of her bed. “I’m telling-”
“I’m killing you!”
Later, when Kronii had dirt all over her face and Ame’s knees were smudged from falling, she realized what to get Gigi.
“Thanks,” she said through a cramp in her side. “For distracting me.”
Kronii, much more athletic and barely winded at all, brushed some mud from her cheek. “So I will be maid of honor.”
Amelia nodded, too tired and yet also excited from figuring out what to get to snip back at her. “Yeah yeah, don’t outshine me.”
Grinning, Kronii threw a clump of grass and Ame, who unfortunately got it right in the mouth. “That’ll be hard. But I’ll try for you.”
-
-
“You have to close your eyes,” Gigi frowned, swishing through the shallow water like a toddler doggy paddling in a kiddy pool. “Or you’ll ruin the surprise!”
“I might fall in Gigi,” Amelia felt for her gift in her pocket for the fourth time, pulled her hand back out, checked one more time in case a hole had magically appeared for it to disappear out of. “It’s pretty rocky over here.”
Gigi chewed on her lip, hair floating around her shoulders. She sat up on her elbows, broad chest dripping seawater that reflected the evening sun. Like she was melting into gold. “I can guide you!” She held her hand out, squirming further onto land. “I won’t let you fall in, I promise.”
“You promise?” Amelia asked, even though she already believed her.
Nodding her head furiously and puffing her chest out, Gigi looked like an excited pup. “I’ll protect you!”
Ame tried really hard to ignore the heat in her cheeks as she held onto Gigi’s webbed hand. “I trust you,” she said, softer than she thought it would come out. Cotton candy instead of a jawbreaker, but it was always easy to speak tenderness with Gigi.
In an awkward sort of shuffle they moved along. Ame had to hunch down to hold Gigi’s hand. Gigi grumbled as she tried to keep Ame as dry as possible, meaning she couldn’t go that far into the water. She had to continue her odd little wiggle to traverse the beach.
“I’m glad your eyes are closed,” Gigi said. “I feel like I look stupid.”
“I am opening my eyes right now to see this,” Ame announced, before something nibbled on her knee. Ame yelped. “Deceiver! You said you’d protect me!”
“I did!” Gigi looked very proud. “You can open your eyes now!”
Ame blinked through the light that stung her eyes. She reached out, not minding the waves dampening the legs of her pants. The boards of the boat were rough, and the flooding inside hadn’t gotten worse but it was still pretty noticeable.
“Nothing a bucket can’t fix,” Amelia whispered.
She clambered aboard without a second thought. It bobbed in the water, but held fast, only sinking to what was expected. Gigi watched her, expectant.
Amelia laughed, unbelieving now that she was sitting on the grimy seat. “You got me a boat?”
Laughing too, Gigi swam into deeper water. She bobbed and weaved and dived, a streak of glittering gold that Amelia’s eye could barely catch. “I did!” She exclaimed when she surfaced, so proud, so satisfied. She was purring when she hooked her chin on the side of the boat. “I got you a ship.”
Ame cleared her throat, putting on a dignified expression. “I dub thee,” she tapped Gigi on her nose, making it wrinkle, “first mate.”
The purring increased from dinghy engine to speedboat roar. Gigi wriggled, pleased, pupils blown wide and smile toothy and dopey. Then her eyes narrowed as she caught the earlier part of the phrase.
“First mate?” The purr turned into a low gurgle, like the beginnings of a hiss. “You’re planning on taking more?”
Ame blinked. “I think second mates exist. I don’t know if the boat can fit another-”
“It can’t,” Gigi snapped. Spines lifted from her back, intimidating and sharp. Fins that usually floated passively by her tail flared wide, and she rattled a growl as she stared Ame down. “No more.”
“Alright alright,” Ame chuckled and lifted her hands up in surrender. “You’re my secret, anyways. I don’t want anybody to know about you.”
Gigi looked up at her from under her eyelashes, her second eyelid blinking for half a second. “Not ever?”
Ame hummed. “Not ever.” Then she thought about it. “Maybe one day.”
“When…?” Gigi questioned.
“When…” Ame rocked in the boat, looking up at the darkening colors of the sky. “When I know that everybody I know will love you like I do.”
Gigi looked up at the sky with her. The stars were horribly far away.
-
-
“I think she’s dense,” Cecilia said sagely, “and that you’re too good for her.”
“She said I was her first mate,” Gigi thumped her head into the grotto wall before swimming back to her nest. Outside, sea glass floated on fishing lines, little lanterns in the darkness of their trench. Other mermaids swam around, unaware of Gigi’s misery. “Is that a human thing? Do they take multiple mates?”
“I think it’s a boat thing, and you are taking it too seriously.” A spring popped free of Ceci’s tail and she cursed. As she fixed it, she continued, “did you give her the bangle?”
Gigi blinked. She looked at her wrist. Ceci sighed.
“The bangle is more obvious,” she complained. Her fin clicked and began moving sinuously with the rest of her tail. “Or maybe, you could move away from that archaic ‘courting’ nonsense we used to do and just tell her?”
“That’s it!” Gigi pinwheeled through the water as she tried to regain her balance. Ceci figured that she did not absorb any of what she just said, and just sighed.
“You have an idea?”
Gigi nodded firmly. If nothing else, her determination was inspiring.
Ceci sighed again. “Go get her.”
-
-
To live in a trench implies being in the deepest part of the ocean in the area. For there to be a trench within a trench, you’d need to specify as such.
Gigi swam into the trench-within-a-trench.
The pressure grew as she swam down. It was like a stone was on her chest, but big, and everywhere. Several stones.
She might be losing it. Her sight was clouding, odd lights blooming and dying in her vision. As she gritted her teeth and swam on, she wondered if she’d come back up.
For a little while, the sun became a memory.
-
-
“You want something,” the voice within a voice within a shell remarked. It was whale hum with the rush of a riptide. Water warmed by sun and untouched by light. It was contradiction in a conch. “But everyone who comes here does.”
Gigi couldn’t speak. The voice hummed knowingly.
“It will be provided,” it said, voice turning somewhat sinister. “For a price.”
Gigi couldn’t feel her body. She was an untethered consciousness, a plankton floating in a current. But she could feel it, like her devotion was something outside of her. A solid mass, strong and resolute, willing to give anything.
“You will court her in the way you desire.” It was an eel now, squirming through Gigi’s cerebrum. “In the way she knows. But you will not know how. You will not be shown.” It was much too pleased with itself. “To return to the sea is to lose this. Remember that.”
And like a lightning snap, Gigi was torn apart.
-
-
She could feel the sand on her skin. It was gritty and rough on her palms. On her bare chest even more so, and Gigi had to be careful not to brush too hard for the sake of her gills. As she lifted herself up, eyes fluttering open, the granules were even pressing on her knees, and grating in between her thighs.
Gigi paused. She scrunched her eyes shut tight and held it for three seconds, then opened them again. Inky darkness, like she was still in the trench. Her hands slid down from her ribs to her hips. There was a distinct lack of scale, save for a few rough portions on her tummy and it seemed, the backs of her hands.
“Gigi?” Someone called. It was Ame, surprised but pleased, just a bit confused. Gigi thought that she’d be able to recognize her no matter what, deaf or blind, from the way her breath left her and the way she held her name.
“Ame?” She asked, very shy in her clumsiness.
Soft hands on Gigi’s upper arms and a nervous giggle. “Oh you, you need a shirt.” There was the rustle of fabric before Ame began to help Gigi up.
She was shaky, a newborn deer on stilts. Gigi leaned against Ame while she tied something around her waist. She was sweet smelling, Gigi noticed. Ame was usually drowned out by the tang of the sea, but now she was so close it would be impossible to not notice. Flowers. The harsh spice of artificial fruit. There was probably a chemical reason, internal or external, to explain why Gigi felt so dizzy all of a sudden.
“Whoa, don’t fall.” Amelia laughed nervously. She was warm too. “Did you always have legs? You are very close, I can’t remember if you’ve always had legs-”
Gigi could feel her; they were cheek to cheek after all. Very carefully, as they ‘walked’ along, she turned her head to brush her lips against Amelia’s cheek.
She could feel Ame freeze. Gigi waited very patiently, trembling a bit as the cold wind brushed against her bare frame.
“Don’t trip,” Amelia said quietly. “There’s a stair here.”
-
-
Amelia pressed her forehead against the wood of her door till she thought the grooves and imperfections were imprinted in. Her face still felt hot. Her hands were clammy meat appendages that did not know how to work doorknobs. She was alright with this for now.
Inside her room was a girl. She smelled of salt and sea-struck rocks. Her teeth were sharp and her chest was broad and she could not see. It was very clearly Gigi. But Ame’s Gigi did not have legs and this one did.
“Ame?” Possibly not her Gigi called. This Gigi was timid and unsure. This Gigi curled her arms around her chest and looked very, very lost when Ame opened the door.
She was wearing loose shorts and nothing else. Her hair brushed against her bare shoulders. Gigi kind of looked like she was ready to go surfing, and Amelia would have laughed if she didn’t feel so strange.
“Gigi,” Ame started, “you have legs.”
Gigi poked at her knees, as if to check that they were still there. “I do.”
“You didn’t have knees before.”
“I didn’t.” Gigi’s eyes were pale. Bleached coral. She blinked sightlessly at the room. “Your bed is soft.”
“Mm.” Amelia tried to make as much noise as possible as she came over to sit next to Gigi, to warn her. “Do all mermaids get, uh, legs at some point?”
“No,” kneading at a blanket, Gigi seemed equal parts attentive and enraptured with every new sensation. Then she stiffened, catching something in the air.
“Ame?” Gigi turned her head, nostrils flaring as she seemed to scent for Ame. Her tummy rumbled with a purr, Amelia being finally able to see how that looked. “How do your people, eh, court?”
“Court?” Amelia frowned. “Like the- the dating thing? I don’t really know, I haven’t been, um, dated, courted ever.”
Gigi felt that was untrue. “Do they give things?”
“Sometimes.” Ame brightened. “Wait! I do have something to give you.” She leaned over Gigi’s lap to reach her nightstand, pulling open a drawer slowly because she knew it screeched. “I was going to give it to you a bit ago, but then you gave me a freaking boat and I- it didn’t feel like enough so I didn’t. Give it to you. I kept it. Yeah.” She coughed, taking Gigi’s hand and pressing something into her palm. “Sorry.”
Gigi thumbed over it, feeling its weight and shape. It was a disc of seemingly concentric rings, no smaller than a portion of Gigi’s palm. It was smooth, and a thick strand of something seemed to run through a hole at the ‘top’ in a loop.
“It’s made from the rings of a fruit tree,” Amelia said, voice warbly from embarrassment. “An apple tree, because it’s your favorite fruit, and I thought since you give me shells all the time that you’d like something from land and, uh, oh! And it’s treated so you can take it underwater.” She knocked on it with her knuckles and it made a pleasing sort of sound.
“I like it,” Gigi breathed. She pulled it over her head, and it rested against her sternum. She brushed her fingers over it again. “I like it very much.”
Amelia sighed like she was relieved. It was a puff of warm air on Gigi’s bare shoulder. “Oh thank god, because I don’t have anything else.” She giggled awkwardly. “We don’t really have an equivalent to shells. Except for rocks. But you can get rocks.”
“I can get rocks,” Gigi agreed.
They sat there in silence for a moment, shoulder to shoulder. Amelia snorted, and Gigi rattle-hissed her own amusement. They were writhing on Ame’s small bed, the laughter dying before Gigi or Ame would nudge the other, whisper something stupid, and the laughter would reignite again. Gigi almost fell off no less than three times.
“Good night, Gigi,” Amelia said later, when they were completely worn out, curled up in the blankets. Cicadas buzzed outside the window, and the air was heavy with the humidity of a late night in a seaside town.
Gigi nuzzled into her, legs ramrod straight like they were still fused together. “Good night Amelia.”
Ame was pretty sure of it by now that friends could talk about anything. Her and Gigi were friends. But Gigi’s bare, scaled stomach was against her back and her breathing was already evening out, puffing on the nape of her neck.
Friends don’t talk about this, Amelia thought with a red, red face.
So she didn’t.
-
-
At some point, Gigi had gotten the hang of walking. At some point after that, Amelia had gotten suspicious of how long Gigi was staying.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go back?” She asked when they were curled up in the grass in a field further inland. Gigi couldn’t smell the sea at all, and it put her on edge a little. “Is there not, like, a biological need for seawater?”
“No,” Gigi said simply. She felt nauseous if she got too close to the shore, and she felt calm enough right here with her head on Amelia’s tummy. Her button up shirt was, as usual, unbuttoned, and the sun was warm on her chest. “Do you want me to leave?”
“I don’t want you to leave,” Amelia brushed hair back from Gigi’s forehead, thumbing over the bridge of her nose. “I don’t want you homesick. Or missing something important. Or away from other friends.”
“I can go home whenever.” Gigi was pretty sure, at least. “My friends will survive.”
Ame ghosted her fingertips over Gigi’s eyelids. “What are they like?”
Gigi hummed. “Ceci’s annoying, Liz is cool, Raora is funny.”
“Not funnier than you though, right?”
“Not at all,” Gigi agreed. “I am the funniest.”
“You’re a riot.”
Ame scratched behind Gigi’s ear to make her purr. This turned into a mournful low the second Ame took her hand away. Amelia resigned herself to this fate for at least the next two minutes. At least until Gigi sat up, chirruping something, and proceeded to send all the blood in Amelia’s body to her face.
Gigi butted her jaw against Ame’s neck. She rubbed her forehead against her chin, nipped at her jaw, and then licked over her mouth, which made Ame squeak and push her away. At this, Gigi cocked her head to the side, rather confused.
“Gigi,” Amelia sounded like she was talking through a mouthful of feathers. Her sleepiness, borne from sweet grass and warm sun, dissipated in an instant. “Are you- are you trying to kiss me?”
“Am I bad at it?” Gigi felt supremely embarrassed. She whined. “I’m bad at it, aren’t I?”
“I thought,” now Ame sounded like she was choking on the mouthful of feathers. “Was that not a mermaid thing? The head butting stuff?”
“I thought that was kissing.” Confusion mixed with embarrassment to make a cocktail that had Gigi squirming. “You can tell me I’m bad at kissing, it’s okay.”
Ame was silent. Gigi thought for a moment that she had genuinely been choking on something and reached out for her. One hand touched a blazing hot cheek and the other rested against Ame’s neck where a heartbeat rabbited a health warning.
“You want to kiss me?” Amelia sounded helpless, caught off guard by her own desire to not misunderstand the situation. She couldn’t want too much of what might not be true.
“Amelia.” Gigi whimpered. Begging came too easily with Ame around. She worked quickly and carelessly, wrenching the bangle off her wrist and shoving it towards Ame’s presumed direction. She didn’t care about the mark the bit of jewelry had left. “I was going to give this to you earlier.” Gigi corrected herself, “way earlier.”
Ame made a wet sound. “You’ve had that forever,” there were nervous hands smoothening out Gigi’s shirt, taking the bangle, brushing over her shorts, tucking hair behind her ears. Every touch was intentional and accidental, motivated by subconscious desire for closeness.
“I’ve liked you forever,” Gigi admitted. Her hand slid up from where it was on Ame’s neck. It went to where Gigi knew her scar was, the one on her chin that she got the night they first met.
“Oh.” Amelia wrapped her fingers around Gigi’s. “Is that- is that what the shells were about?”
Gigi nodded.
“And the boat?”
Gigi nodded.
“And the weeds?”
Chuffing, Gigi gave a sour look over Ame’s shoulder. “I thought those were flowers.”
“I loved them anyways, Gigi.”
Gigi hadn’t had a lot of time to get used to legs, but she felt like she’d gotten the hang of it. She’d dealt with human culture through Ame for most of her life, and was just barely grasping onto that too. When Ame kissed her, though, she just felt clumsy.
She was skin and meat and roiling need, trying very hard to not bite Ame’s lips off in an uncool and unromantic way. There wasn’t a romantic way to do it, period. But Ame was clumsy too. Her hands cradled Gigi’s face, she was halfway on Gigi’s lap and then reaching down to make sure Gigi’s shirt didn’t slide off her shoulders.
“I’m glad you can’t see me right now,” Ame whispered when they finally broke apart. Gigi felt like it would never be enough, didn’t know how Ame could handle stopping at all. “I think I’m a mess.”
“I’ve seen you as a mess,” Gigi said honestly, and this was true. “You’re always pretty.”
Ame was stunned into silence. “Take your smooth talking mermaid ways out of here,” she spluttered when she had the air. “I’m intimidated.”
“I’m sorry.” Gigi imagined Amelia’s pout, the curve of her pink upper lip and the freckles in her cheeks brought out by a blush. The silk of her hair, a color that Gigi had nothing to reference from till she met her. Now, when she saw gold, she thought of Ame.
“Gigi, I want you to be honest with me.” Amelia paired this nerve racking statement with her pressing her nose against Gigi’s cheek in a mimicry of what she’d done earlier. “Why do you have legs now?”
“Mm,” Gigi’s face screwed up, not wanting to answer. But her imagination went on overdrive, picturing Amelia’s disappointed, angry, sad, unhappy expression. “I wanted to court you. I had been courting you. You never noticed.”
Amelia brushed her lips against Gigi’s cheek. “I did,” she murmured. “Didn’t want to believe it.”
“Why not?” Gigi asked, almost desperately. She mapped out the curve of Amelia’s cheekbone with her finger, and thought it was a delicate thing. She would get distracted by every mystery Ame was if she didn’t stay focused.
“I don’t know.”
They probably made a silly sight. Two people curled up in the grass, one clinging to the other and looking right through them. Near arguing, half confessing, a quarter disbelieving.
“That’s so stupid,” Gigi cried out. “You’re so stupid!”
She bowled them over, rolling them around. Gigi straddled Amelia, glaring at her forehead. Her teeth, with the power of human toothpaste, were an intimidating sight.
“I wish,” she choked out, on the verge of tears, “that you didn’t like me. ‘Cause then I’d know why you took so long.”
“Gigi,” hands splayed out on her ribcage, just on the inside of her gills. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”
“You’re sorry,” Gigi said, “and I’m more than in love with you.” She was keening under her breath, “I want to see you, Amelia, Ame, Amelia, we have to- the ocean-”
And they were rocketing to their feet, stumbling and half sprinting. Amelia climbed over the fence to the field and helped Gigi over. They were heading down the road and back to town, through back alleys and threading through barely used side streets.
They went past the sign declaring the main beach. Another fence bypassed and Amelia was guiding them down a set of rocky stairs, hewn from the face of the steep sloping hill. Gigi felt dirt turn to sand underfoot. With a rather unceremonious sort of stumble, she belly flopped into the surf.
She felt hot, then cold, then both. Her skin was evacuating from her muscles, and it was as expected, not a nice feeling. Gigi snapped at the water, twisted as her gills frantically readjusted to sea water again. Her legs unraveled and intertwined again, golden scales peppering over the forming tail with her signature brown and black spots.
As she floated in the water, she saw her necklace, Amelia’s gift to her, drifting around her neck. It was light brown, and with a pleasing visual texture as well. And in every circle, crammed together into an overlap of lines and gibberish, were both their names.
The world was bright when she burst from the surface. Ame’s shirt hung around her shoulders, but the shorts were decimated. Amelia didn’t seem to mind, kneeling in the waves and letting her own pants get wet. Her hair was indeed a mess. Gigi didn’t realize what kissing did to one’s lips, and now had to deal with the visual of Amelia with a pinkened mouth without chewing on her own tail.
“I can see you!” Gigi grinned, twisting and flipping, swimming back to shore and nosing at Ame’s wet knee. A bit quieter: “I can see you.”
“How do I look?” Ame flipped her hair back. She sounded like she wasn’t expecting the greatest of answers. “Am I pretty, darling?”
“Didn’t need eyes to know that,” Gigi said as if it were obvious, and kissed her again. She was able to see how it took Ame apart, how her skin flushed and her eyes fluttered closed. The slight vibration in her throat from a pleased groan.
“I like you with a tail.” At some point, Amelia wound up fully on her back, her clothes and hair a lost cause. Gigi's tail flopped to the side and she grinned triumphantly. Seawater and sand had won a total victory on this day.
“Tell me how your room looks,” Gigi perched on Amelia’s chest for the second time that day. When Ame petted her hair, she could feel the bangle's weight. The world was quiet and they were in love. They could talk about anything.
“It’s warm,” Amelia started, “some blankets, a bed, drawers-”
“I know this,” Gigi complained.
“And I have every gift you’ve ever given me, on every wall and in a box.” Ame kissed her like she was already missing her, before rolling her off so they could lie side by side. “And in my heart. Or something.” She raised an eyebrow. “Better?”
Gigi hummed, thinking. She felt warm. Pleased. She pressed her lips to the scar on Amelia’s chin. The world would know how Gigi loved Ame, and it was with everything. “It’s a start.”