Sea Side

I had arrived at the Silver Ocean ten minutes past noon. Flynn would be here, surveying the ocean as usual. He’s a lifeguard, I think. At least, that was my starry eyed dream of him. A tide born man saving damsels and being lured out to homicidal sea. To die a sailor’s death.

The sun had engulfed the golden beach, a repeat of the first day I discovered my sailor. I had found a quiet spot near the edge of the beach, now to begin the ritual.

Eventually, he happened upon my smoke signals, sitting down next to me.

“Annie,” he breathed, honey eyes wondering my frame. “You look…different.” In this radiant light, I could perfectly make out a deep blush on bark cheeks.

“Mother gave me fishtail braids,” I replied, gingerly touching my hair.

The only possibly true fact about Daniel was the idea he had a full head of red hair. It explains the orange waves that flowed from my scalp. Mother always maintained I resembled Daniel best. The mythical sailor I would never meet. I like to believe that sometimes, that he was a sailor. I add my own myth; he was swallowed whole by the sea in a great act of defiance.

“Do you really mean what you said?” Flynn asked, honey staring into two oceans. He looked so beautiful and sun-kissed close up. It was a mortal laying eye upon Poseidon.

“I’ve always been in love with you, I think.” Flynn was electric sea foam to me. Warm, bubbly, and forever.

“You aren’t,” he said flatly. For the strangest reason, I began to cry. My eyes foamed over into two vicious whirlpools; I was going to be swallowed by the sea again.

I stood up. “I am Anna Collingwood and I am in love with Flynn,” I chanted in a quiet voice which was washed away by the tide and muted into little grains of sand. He was up now, too.

Hands made for the seas gripped my elbows, pulling me into his bare chest. I had refused to acknowledge bark skin and perfect form. The Great Sea was a greater lover. Instead my eyes bore into the Silver Ocean. I could swim in its salty embrace for eternity, I think. Float away from bark skin and honey eyes.

The sobs were real now; they were audio able and held substance. They transformed my body into a violent tsunami. But he held me. Flynn remained as quiet as the Silver Ocean as he cradled me in arms crafted for the scorned lover of the Great Sea.

“It’s Corbett. My last name is Corbett,” he murmured against my head, as he petted my scalp. This was the first time Flynn Corbett had touched me.