the last thing she-- no, that still didn’t feel quite right, despite the knowledge that the body they were in certainly was feminine. the last thing they remembered was fin, beloved, precious fin, with tears in her eyes. they hadn’t been able to move, to tell her that they were ok, just healing, settling. they could feel a pulse, an other that, before rebirth, had only ever been a far off tremble they could never truly access. was what-- could they feel magic now? sitting up from the bed, covered in sweat, everything was sore, their head pounding and chestnut hair falling all around their face. actually standing felt a herculean task, but eventually they made it to the door, spotting fin sitting at their small table. they meant to say something soft, something to make her smile, instead, they could barely croak out, ‘ i don’t know what to do with my hair. ‘

          THE CLATTER OF SHATTERING PORCELAIN          rings through the silence of small shop at the end of a long day.   the final first date bouquets made and sold,  men and women softly guided out of the building with a wave and a smile.  hand painted pot held between her hands,  a small side step to avoid the puddle on concrete floor        ;        a soothing smile to vibrating sunflowers growing towards the light bulb on the ceiling.   a dance,  with violets and roses alike,  until shadow in the corner is spotted.   

who can blame a girl for thinking it’s an intruder at first.  

❝ felix   ?   ❞   own voice is drowned out by the shattering.   swallowed in the aftermath of destruction.  it sounds strange even to her own ears.   converse kicked off moments before are not even missed when she steps across the shards        /        will worry about her own pain later,  when she has assured the safety of the spider leaning against the corner for support     (     mind does not think about the missing limb,   does not connect the dots laid out before.  refuses to see the truth before her very eyes.    )       ❝ are you okay   ?     come here,   come here sweetie. ❞

“ lemony?  violet told me she recognises that name but i- i'm not sure i do. ”  he watches the man inquisitively,  “ are you -- were you a friend of our parents? ”

        ❝  is  it  magic ?  ❞   her  head  tilts  as  she  looks  at   the  blue  box  curiously,  completely  fascinated  and  confused  at  the  same  time.   magical  objects  were  as  common  as  magical  people  were  in  the  wizarding  world,  although  she  couldn’t  say  that  she’s  ever  seen  something  like  that  before.   luna  was  always  looking  to  find  something  interesting  on  her  walks  and  she  supposed  this  was  a  pleasant  surprise  ------  unless  it  turned  out  not  to  be  one.   ❝  a  portal  of  some  sort ?  ❞

            sometimes, the merfolk was little more than an annoyance. that was how this had all started, after all. he’d tried to steal her lunch. honestly, with the other creatures of the sea being warned to stay far away from the sirens, it was a wonder that they’d become friends in the first place. and yet, though the words would never be spoken aloud, he was one of her closest friends. which was why she was currently laying on the ocean floor, sand swirling around her as his swimming disturbed it, staring up at the water’s surface with her cheeks tinged dark with blush. ‘ markus, i met the moon. ‘

          she hadn’t been looking at the track when the sound of squealing rubber and metal making contact with a barrier echoed around the circuit. she’d been going over lap data with noel before sending him back out. quiroz. ferrari. the news came quick through her earpiece. run off the road by the russian. idiot. now noel was back on the track, and she approached luis with two cups of coffee. ‘ if it makes you feel better, ‘ she said, offering one of the cups, ‘ i think his car is in worse shape. ‘

           ‘ no, no. i’m fine. ‘ like she wasn’t finishing her fifth glass of water in the last twenty minutes. like the palm of her hand wasn’t simmering with iridescent scaling from just the condensation on the glass. she wouldn’t go back to the water, not yet. finishing off the last of the water, she threaded the fingers of the scaled palm through loon’s borrowed digits. ‘ i can stay. ‘