MY FISHMAN IS angry. It's been three days since Llywelyn woke up, and it's been nothing but him scowling and snapping at me.
I know he's in pain, embarrassed, frustrated, and therefore angry.
And this is why I absolutely cannot allow myself to laugh at the ridiculous angry sounds he makes as I pour water on his head.
Honestly it's a huge feat of strength that I don't.
It's just—it's all very silly. And he's being very dramatic. And I'm really glad that nobody else is here to see, because I might just break
It's not that he's not actually suffering, either. He is. His whole body is shaking, and he's sweating, and his veins are pulsing erratically. He's in pain, and it's hard to watch. But at the same time, he's being such a baby about it, and it's hard not to find it cute.
I mean, he is always dramatic. Even when he's not dying. So this is just... a whole new level of it.
I hold the pitcher of water above his head, and pour it slowly, making sure it covers his hair, his face, and his neck. He whimpers and grunts, and glares at me through the water. His hand clutches the edge of the bed, and his other hand clings to my arm.
If I know anything about Akutwas, the water likely feels good. The anger is probably mostly because he's being humiliated and he has to rely on me to do it.
I don't mind. I want to help him, even if I am a little amused at his expense. It's the least I can do after what he did for me. After what he's still doing. It's my way of apologizing. Of saying thank you.
Of course, he won't see it that way.
"Return me to the sea, I wish to become seafoam and never deal with another surface-dweller again!" he moans as I finish pouring the water. I set the pitcher down and reach for a towel. "Nishi'an reh, that was the worst thing you've ever done to me."
"Really?" I say, drying my hands off and then setting the towel aside. "Worse than when forced you to keeping the Aquacave duty?"
He squints at me. "That is on the list. Yes."
"I seem to recall it wasn't so bad after a while."
He looks away, his veins lighting up a blue-purple color. "You. Misremember."
"Do I?"
He grumbles something incoherent and closes his eyes. He's trying to ignore me. He does that a lot. He's been doing that ever since he woke up. He doesn't want to talk to me, doesn't want to look at me, doesn't want to admit anything.
I wish I knew why.
Maybe he regrets what he said. Maybe he's embarrassed. Maybe he said things he didn't mean in the heat of the moment, but... I—I honestly don't know how I feel, if that's the case. Could I have left if he hadn't confessed those feelings to me before? Had he trapped me in this place only to realize he didn't really mean it? Or would I have just regretted it anyway, too late to go back and fix it?
I don't know.
And I'm not sure how to ask him about it without making things worse.
I sigh and move to sit next to him on the bed. He shifts away from me, making more room, but not opening his eyes.
"Llywelyn..." I say, softly.
"What?" He says, his voice terse.
"I... I'm sorry." I say, and I mean it. I'm sorry for everything. For hurting him, for making him worry, for being selfish. For choosing him over my home. For causing him to have to protect me and hurt himself in the process. For... for everything.
He opens his eyes and looks at me. His expression is unreadable, but his veins pulse a soft pink. "S'nilia—for what?"
"For... for all of it. I—I shouldn't have... I shouldn't have come back. I should have left—"
"Don't be a ritzah." He says, and his voice is a bit harsher than I expected. "Don't. Make me say. What I already said. Again."
I flinch and look away.
Does he mean what I think he means?
Or is he just telling me to shut up?
I don't know.
His fingers lace with mine. I turn back toward him, but his face is still... decidedly away from me. "Don't. Ever. Nishi'an apologize for... the..." He swallows. For a moment I think he might just trail off and stop speaking there. But before I can try to respond, he speaks again. "The happiest. I've. Been. You don't get to apologize for that."
I...
I don't know what to say to that. I don't know if he's talking about...
My hand tightens in his. Maybe it's my guilt pushing me, but I lean toward him and rest my head on his shoulder. He doesn't move away, but he doesn't lean into me either. He just stays still, his breathing shallow.
"I..." I bite my lip. "Meant what I said—"
"That you hate me?"
I stiffen.
He pulls my hand to his face. His lips press to my knuckles. "If you want me to repeat it then you. Also have to."
"I could take that deal..."
He huffs, his veins flare a bluish-purple and he turns his face from me again. "Don't know if I can..."
I shift and slide my hand up to his cheek. It's warm, and a little damp. I turn his face toward me and look into his eyes. They're bright and beautiful, even when they're filled with uncertainty and vulnerability.
"If you wuss out on me I'll dump cold water next time." I murmur. "I just..."I swallow.
It's a lot...
It was a lot easier. When I was dying. When he was dying. When we both were. Saying things like 'I love you' just seemed... right. Natural. Obvious.
But now we're safe, and he's injured but stable, and...
"I came back because... I would rather be anywhere else with you than at home without you." I say it quietly, barely audible. I wonder if it's enough. I wonder if he can hear me.
His hand squeezes mine and his eyes flicker shut. I watch him breathe for a moment, and then his eyes open again. He's gazing up at me with a complex expression, and his veins pulse with a soft pink glow.
"Yeah... well... you're. An idiot. If you think I'm gonna just say..."
He trails off and looks away again.
I...
It's fine. It's fine that he can't say it. I know he loves me. He told me. And he stayed with me. And he—
"It. Made me." He grits out. "Happier. Than I thought I could be. When I saw your face again. Okay?" His voice is barely a whisper.
My heart thuds in my chest. The corners of my lips tug up into a smile. "Yeah. Okay."
He lets go of my hand and covers his face again. "Don't. Do that thing with your face."
"Thing?" I ask, amused.
"Smiling! At me! You're not allowed." He glares at me from between his fingers.
"I'm not controlling my face just for you! I will smile whenever I want! Especially if you say sweet things to me!"
"I didn't say a nishi'an sweet thing! I—Shut up you hetchki! Away from me! Away!" He swats at me, but it's a weak gesture. He's still too injured to really do anything.
I catch his hand and bring it up to kiss his knuckles.
He makes a deeply amusing sound. Like a kitten being forced into a bath.
I can't help it, I laugh.
His eyes flash open and he stares at me. "You are the worst! The worst nurse! Where is Mira! I accept my fate! Bring her back!"
I laugh harder and let go of his hand. "Tough shit, fish man. You're stuck with me."
He huffs and turns his face away from me. His ears twitch and his veins glow a bright bluish-pink. It's as close as he gets to blushing. It's so damn cute I can hardly stand it.
I'm not sure how I ever... didn't see that. I mean, I always thought he was pretty. But it's—
A little different. When I allow myself to see him like this. And not just... the stupid fish.
I...
He's beautiful.
I don't know what to do with myself.
I clear my throat and stand up. "I—I should go get more water. And check on your—your food... stuff. And—yeah. I'll be back."
I just need...
To take a moment.
Before I do something really rash.
His voice follows me as I walk to the door. "Maybe! I will get some sleep! While I can! Without you bothering me!"
His voice is rough and a little shaky. I glance over my shoulder and see him still facing away from me. His hand is covering his eyes, and his shoulders are tense.
I smile softly.
"Sleep well, Llywelyn."
I leave the room before he can reply.