The pier was bathed in the soft, fading light of the setting sun, casting long shadows over the weathered planks as the gentle waves lapped against the edges.


    Beautiful.


    Yuu thought she was on time, but she was the first to arrive. No messages yet on her phone. Noone around. Fortunately, the approaching evening was warm, or she’d have trouble standing here in her formal swimdress.


    Yuu stood there alone, the silence wrapped around her like a cozy blanket, her breath catching in the change of the evening air. Her heart fluttered, a strange mix of excitement and anticipation swelling in her chest, a sensation that felt like a firework just waiting to burst. The atmosphere was charged, as if the very air around her was alive with possibility.


    “Whoa, fluttery…what do you think you’re doing?” she muttered under her breath to the double-crossing organ in her chest.


    Yuu took a deep breath, the coolness of the evening filling her lungs, and as she exhaled—the flutter in her chest didn’t quiet down, because of course it didn’t. If anything, it only grew stronger, the sensation of being on the edge of something new, like a storm just about to break.


    In contrast, the world around her felt as though it were holding its breath, waiting for the next step, for something to shift. She felt that pull, that tingling excitement in the air, as if the night itself was alive.


    “Just another night in Twisted Wonderland,” she said aloud to herself in the evening air—unconvincing, even to herself.


    “Of course it is,” said a voice behind her, his voice smooth as silk. "I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long. You know how business sometimes gets in the way of—well, today business tried to get in the way of being alive. I am quite fortunate to have Jade and Floyd as my mitigation—sometimes.”


    She turned to see Azul walking toward her with that confident stride of his, his elegant coat trailing behind him like something out of a high-end fashion magazine. He smiled, a bit smug but undeniably charming, and stopped beside her, leaning against the pier with all the practiced grace of someone who''d spent his life perfecting the art of nonchalance.


    "Should I tell them you said that?" Yuu offered with a mischievous grin.


    He mock-shuddered. “If you do, I’ll deny it. They wouldn’t believe you, anyway.”


    “I’m not…I’m not taking you away from anything important, am I?” she asked, suddenly self-conscious. “Because if I am, you can go. I won’t be offended—”


    Azul laughed—a real, open, ringing sort of laugh that shook his shoulders, and rumpled his coat.


    “Yuu—” he took a breath to calm himself. “Yuu, the sort of chaos that has taken over my lounge tonight is the kind of thing I would pay real money to avoid. I’m going to have Jade to pay once I get back for disappearing. Call this a rescue.”


    “It’s your turn to be the damsel? That does change things around.”


    He snorted. “I wouldn’t go that far—hey!” He yelped when Yuu elbowed him.


    “Let me have my white knight moment. You got all of them last week—except with the clam, and I’m still not really sure how we got out of that one.”


    He straightened his jacket on his shoulders, then seemed to think better of himself and took it off entirely.


    “Touche,” he admitted.


    “So…” she said, rubbing at her arms. “I hate to pester, but is this going to be the sort of not-date-but-deal where we eat food? Grim flambeed dinner tonight. And I don’t even know HOW. It was supposed to be soup! How do you burn soup?”


    “He is an exceptionally flammable creature,” said Azul, though even he looked impressed. “I almost hired him to work in my kitchen last year...”


    Her eyes bugged. Her hand flew up to his chest without permission.


    “Please, please never do that. I’ll never be able to afford the damages he’d saddle me with. And you won’t be able to afford the trauma.”


    “Should I tell him that you said that?” he asked, eyes twinkling.


    She smirked. “If you do, I’ll deny it,” she parroted. “Azul, we’re almost out of light… should we go?”


    He draped his coat over the pier, looking for all the world like he intended on going nowhere soon.


    “Oh, we’ll go. And to answer your question, there will be food—but we’re not going anywhere on the pier. Beyond that, I’m not saying anything else. You’ll have to wait.”


    Yuu rolled her eyes. “I am going to come back alive from this, right? I mean, after all the effort you put into keeping me that way, it would really be a waste if I didn’t.”


    “Trust me,” Azul said, stepping forward to gently guide her toward the edge of the dock. “You’ll be perfectly safe... probably.” He winked.


    “Probably?” Yuu asked, giving him a pointed look.


    Azul’s expression turned mysteriously serious for a brief moment, before he added with a chuckle, “Well, what’s an adventure without a bit of danger?”


    Yuu’s sigh was exaggerated. “Should I have stayed in Ramshackle, and spent tonight battling whatever probably-sentient dinner monstrosity Grim made?”


    But Azul just gave her a knowing smile, his voice smooth.


    “You know you’re curious, Yuu. Besides, where’s the fun in playing it safe when there’s magic and mayhem waiting just around the corner?”


    Yuu’s lips twitched. That was certainly one of Twisted Wonderland’s biggest perks—she never knew what was waiting for her in the next moment.


    “Alright, alright. Lead the way to magic and mayhem!”


    Azul gave a satisfied smile, clearly pleased with the exchange. “With pleasure,”


    And, with a little too much pleasure, he shoved her into the water.


    Yuu yelped as the icy water plunged over her head, and she could have sworn she heard Azul laughing as he jumped over her, and dove in much more gracefully, like the sodding fish he was.


    Azul’s transformation into his true form apparently went much more smoothly when he had control over it. With a flick of his pen, his clothing dissolved into a curtain of bubbles, which hardly had time to ascend before eight black tentacles came billowing through the waves around him.


    “Show off,” she coughed, when her lungs found air again.


    Azul ghosted over to her, keeping her head above water, like he had the first time, letting her rest on one of his long black limbs.


    “Turnabout is fair play,” he said, shrugging. “Sorry for the….erm…tentacles. I know that humans—and mer-folk—find them disconcerting. But this is the only way we’re going to get where we’re going.”


    “They’re not disconcerting,” she contradicted. “They’re flashy, sure. And dramatic. And very pretty—”


    “You think I’m pretty?”


    Just when she didn’t think he could GET more smug.


    “I think you’re flashy and dramatic. Did I not say dramatic?” she covered quickly.


    “You look lovely in that dress as well,” he added, pulling her closer in the water. He let her grip his forearms so that she, instead of just him, had control over how much air she was getting.


    “Thanks,” she returned, welcoming the gesture. “Its very, ah, tasteful. I can’t imagine how you got it so quickly.”


    “Well, I like to think so.” He cradled her arms in his hands, letting her come to him.


    “How…did you know my sizing? I was curious.”


    “Rook,” he said with a tiny, exasperated noise.


    “You made a deal with Rook? You got him to sit down long enough?”


    He rolled his eyes. “I never said anything about getting him to sit down.”


    She coughed again. “Thank you. That would have been….trouble.”


    He was unamused, scrutinizing her struggle. “Drink this,” he said, one tentacle producing and offering her a shimmery sort of vial out of nowhere.


    She didn’t take it. “Is this going to give me a tail again? Because if it’s all the same, I’d really rather not dissolve my bones—”


    “It won’t,” he promised quickly. “This will let you breathe both underwater and above air for three hours.”


    “That long?” Taking the vial from his arm—foot?—she gave the contents of the vial a suspicious sniff, but after all they’d been through, Yuu had begun to sincerely trust Azul.


    She tipped it back, and, though it tasted like fermented seaweed, at least her bones stayed intact. Instead, if felt as though her lungs had expanded in their capacity, and she felt the place where she’d once had gills thin, and start to take in water again. The cold vanished as well. The stars were brighter, and she could see much farther across the water—and beneath it as well.


    “This is—” she breathed deep, taking in what was around her. “Azul, this is really impressive.”


    “Thank you,” he said, genuinely flattered. “I’ve been developing this one for a few years now. It’s….more convenient.”


    “I can only imagine.”


    “The sun is nearly down. Shall we?”


    He was already holding onto her, but she nodded assent, taking a tighter hold of his arms, and letting him tug her away from the dock, away from the city lights, and away from firm land.


    Once they were far enough, he signaled to her that they were going to go deeper, and she let him pull her beneath the surface, where her lungs took their first shuddering gulp of cold saltwater.


    Even in the fading orange and pink sunset around them, the ocean below stretched endless, empty, and dark. Azul moved through the water like it was second nature—because it was—and she, well… she moved like someone who had only ever been thrown into it. She kicked her legs haphazardly, trying to match his effortless grace, and was rewarded with a very familiar, very smug chuckle.


    "Aren’t you enjoying this too much?” she muttered.


    Azul slowed down just enough to let her think she was keeping up before smoothly pulling ahead again. Her voice was distorted by the water, but his was somehow clearer.


    “No, Yuu, I’m enjoying it exactly the right amount.”


    "If I drown, I promise I will haunt you."


    He turned back just enough to grin at her. “If you drown while I’m carrying you, you’ll have far bigger problems than haunting me.”


    Before she could protest, he adjusted his hold, one arm bracing securely behind her back. A single flick of his tentacles sent them gliding effortlessly through the water, and she had to admit—it was far better than fighting against the current like she was trying to climb a mountain in very large slippers.


    “You know,” she mused, settling against him, “It’s very impressive how quickly you move with all of these arms.”


    Azul was instantly suspicious—which might have been insulting if he weren’t absolutely correct about how impish she was feeling.


    “I that…a compliment, or a setup?”


    She singsonged against his chest, trying her best to sound like Floyd. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”


    “I wouldn’t.”


    “No? You just seemed really good with them earlier—”


    “Earlier when—? You know what, Yuu? New rule. No teasing the transport.”


    “That’s an insufferable rule.”


    “Given what the clam had to say about things, I think we both know how insufferable you really think I am.”


    She shut her mouth hard.


    Azul hummed, entirely unrepentant—the unrepentant hum of a merman who knew he’d won.


    A few minutes of silence passed, and the water before them was still empty, until they pulled up to a spot that…was still empty.


    “We’re here!” Azul announced proudly.


    “It’s lovely,” she said eagerly. “Best patch of empty water I’ve ever seen. Sensational, really. They don’t have any empty water like this at home.”


    Azul rolled his eyes. “I should bite you.”


    She snickered. “You already did…many times, actually. Does that mean I have a few more that I’m allowed?”


    He groaned. His chin brushing the top of her head in his agitation.


    “Too soon. Just—just wait.”


    He held out his pen, and lifted it up to the very empty water, leaning forward, until it met with some invisible object with a tiny, ringing ‘clink!’


    She opened her mouth to quip back—only to fall silent as the ocean around them seemed to shift. Then, a great shudder rippled through the waters around them, and what looked like a glass wall fell down into the ocean floor in segments.


    Just as the last of the cherry-red glow of the sun died on the horizon, the waterwall finished it’s revealing fall, opening her view to an enormous bioluminescent garden winking to life as the moon rose above.


    It was a sprawling maze of plants, larger than the biosphere back at NRC. Filled to the brim with life she’d never seen before, and if Azul was to be believed, almost no one had seen anything like this.


    The water pulsed with soft light, trailing over their skin like the lingering touch of a spell. Strange, otherworldly plants stretched and curled in slow motion, their bioluminescence glowing in shades that had no name. Delicate floating orbs drifted like captive stars, swirling in their containers with lazy, dreamlike motion. And then there were the vines—thick, curling things laced with potion-rich flowers, their petals shifting colors like an indecisive chameleon.


    From every coral shrub, winding vine, and coiling, curling root, shining fruits glowed, dripping with lush color. Large, lantern fruits hung along a winding path through the garden, the whole thing swaying in the current like it was one living, breathing thing.


    He laughed, rich and unhurried, before turning to take in the garden around them. “Well? What do you think?”


    Yuu let herself drift, absorbing the strange, beautiful space in silence before finally turning back to him.


    “…I think this is the part of the tour where you hit me with the real pitch. And I would listen. ”


    Azul smirked, tilting his head slightly. “My dear, if you think I’d offer any of this for sale, then I must be losing my touch.”


    She grinned. “So you do have a soft spot.”


    Azul leaned closer, voice dropping to a whisper. “Let’s keep that between us, shall we?”


    She exhaled, turning her gaze back to the glowing plants, the drifting lights, the peaceful stillness of it all. It felt like something out of a dream—something Azul had kept entirely to himself until now.


    “…This place is yours,” she said, quieter now, realization sinking in.


    Azul watched her for a moment before nodding. “It is.”


    A small smile pulled at her lips. “And you’re just… showing me.”


    Azul smirked, but there was something softer beneath it. “Consider it an exclusive tour. For a limited-time only—luxury transport, expert guidance, and exceptional company.”


    Yuu tilted her head. “No hidden fees?”


    “Yuu, if I told you that, they wouldn’t be hidden, now would they?”


    For the first time since the nightmares began—since she’d had to leave the safety of Octavinelle several days prior, Yuu laughed—a real, effortless laugh that left her breathless.


    “That sounds like a risk.”


    “And yet,” he murmured, voice dropping to something softer, something undeniably pleased, “here you are.”


    She smiled. “These are incredible. Will you show me?”


    He swam them past a patch of stalk-ish plants waving in the current, each topped with a little glowing eye that bobbled and winked at them.


    “Do those do anything?”


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    “So far, they’ve been nothing but silently judgmental,” he sighed. “And completely inert in potions. More inert than water.”


    “No personality. Got it. And these?” She pointed to a patch of hot pink skeletal cages growing around what looked like raspberries.


    “For the first few hours after consuming those, you will be consumed with the color pink. Rosy view of life. Appalling fashion sense. Very prone to blushing.”


    “And after that?”


    “You will have some serious explaining to do to anyone who witnessed the early effects,” he mumbled.


    She snorted. “I’d love to hear that story.”


    “No.”


    “No?”


    He shot her a ‘look.’ I promised a tour, not an epic tale. “Anything else catch your interest?”


    “Hmmm…” she glanced around. There was so much. “Those?” she eventually asked, settling on the chameleon-colored berries.


    Azul gestured toward them, his voice velvety smooth. “Siren fruit. One bite enhances your voice beyond measure.”


    Yuu narrowed her eyes. “And the catch?”


    Azul feigned offense. “Must you always assume there is a catch?”


    Oops.


    “My apologies,” she said quickly.


    He chuckled. “The catch is that if the fruit dislikes you, it may render your voice somewhat… intolerable.”


    She pinched his arm. “Define intolerable.”


    Azul flinched, but his eyes gleamed with mischief. “Some say it resembles the sound of a particularly distressed seagull.”


    Yuu clamped her mouth shut, expression caught between horror and barely contained laughter.


    Azul leaned in, voice smooth as silk. “Would you care to test your luck?”


    She laughed. “No, but I wouldn’t mind a demonstration.”


    “Hmmm, not tonight,” he declined.


    “Why, does it not like you?” she teased.


    He arched a brow at her. “Because the results would be…disastrous to our evening no matter how it decided to feel about me.”


    She blinked. Then, she understood. “A—ah. Good call, I suppose.” She searched around for another object of interest for a subject. “How about those?”


    She pointed to a semi-circle of decorative corals, surrounding a patch of what looked like electric blue watermelons.


    “Ah! I’m so glad you asked! Those—” he gestured proudly to the melons, “—are our dinner!”


    Yuu let go of Azul, and swam to hover over the melon patch. They didn’t react to her, or watch her like some of the plants in here did, but they were still….electric blue.


    “Are you going to tell me what they do?”


    “After you try them, of course!” he said with a grin. His tentacles were already making short work of the attached vines, and pulling two of the melons from their garden bed.


    “At least they didn’t shriek or anything when you did that,” Yuu noted.


    “Oh, come, Yuu. They’re just fruit,” Azul said, rolling his eyes. “This way.”


    He led her further down the path, where a set of steps were carved into a rock plymouth rising from the edge of the garden.


    She shot him a questioning look, but followed him upward, to where the surface broke.


    In a rare calm spot on the outer sea, a large bowl had been carved from the rock where it met the water, meaning that Azul could sit in its middle and still have his gills submerged, and they could both keep themselves in the open air quite clearly.


    “It’s—wow, Azul,” she gasped, letting him pull her into the obsidian perch.


    Above them, the stars sprawled out more clearly than they ever could on land, and below, the glowing garden winked merrily away in all of its lively color. Azul had been right. There was no place else like this in Wonderland, or her own world—or anywhere.


    “Comfortable?” he asked, once they were both situated.


    “Um…almost. Would this be alright?”


    The downside of sitting in a bowl when she didn’t have tentacles was that Yuu couldn’t actually perch herself anywhere steady. Instead of sitting next to Azul and tipping sideways, she opted to face him, and swing her legs over his—what would have been—his lap. As always, Azul was surprised when she was bold enough to touch the black rubbery skin on his lower half, but he at least seemed to see the necessity of it, and didn’t push her away.


    “It’s fine,” he affirmed simply, turning his attention back to the fruit they’d brought with him.


    Pulling a tiny paring knife from the invisible pouch he kept at his side, he removed part of the outer blue rind from the melons, and handed her one of them, though it didn’t escape her how careful he was being not to touch the flesh of the fruit.


    “So…do I get any hints as to what this might do?” Yuu pressed again, accepting the fruit he offered to her.


    “Maybe next time,” he said ambiguously.


    Hoping that this wasn’t all going to go horribly wrong, she held his gaze as she took the first bite.


    “Well?” he asked, sounding eager.


    She looked down. She wasn’t turning blue, nor was anything else happening to her.


    “Hmm…” she pondered. “Cherry limeade? And mint?”


    “Interesting combination…” he murmured, biting into his own.


    “Interesting, why?”


    He offered her the other side of the one he’d bitten. His fruit’s flavor was smooth and complex, with sweet notes of citrus, and something deep and savory.


    “Is that citrus fried chicken?” she said around her mouthful.


    He nodded proudly. “The fruit adapts its taste to the one who bites it first.”


    “It changes, it doesn’t change you. Nice. Does it change according to mood? Preference? Does it change if your taste for it changes in the middle of eating?”


    “It is fruit, Yuu,” he grinned at her. “It’s not that smart.”


    She nudged his tentacles with her ankle. “But you had the same questions when you discovered it, though, right?”


    He choked a little on his next bite. “Yes, I did.”


    They chewed together in companionable silence for a while, watching the flickering lights above and below.


    “Yuu…” he ventured, once they were about halfway through. “If you aren’t…comfortable sitting like this with me, I won’t be offended if you want to go somewhere else. There are other places in the garden where we can sit.”


    She regarded him, genuinely curious.


    “It didn’t seem to worry you at Mal’s wedding that you were in your true form. Is there a reason that it''s bothering you, now? I promise you Azul, I don’t find you at all off-putting. In any form.”


    Yuu was grateful for the dark. For some reason, admitting that last bit out loud, even as flatly as she’d said it, felt strange, given the situation.


    “How odd,” was all he said.


    “It shouldn’t be,” she shot back.


    He sighed, leaning back on the opposite edge of their stony seat.


    “The world is rarely concerned with what ‘should,’ be.”


    “I don’t know what to say to that, but then, I don’t speak for anyone else—except maybe Grim. Someone should speak for him sometimes…”


    Azul snorted, his earlier concern palpably dissipating.


    “So, the fruit. I have to ask, for research reasons. When I began experimenting with land-cantaloupe, I had trouble getting the flavors on this right. Do you think it was accurate?”


    “It was perfect—and—hang on, you designed these? Did you design all of them?”


    She gaped.


    “Well, not all of them, but most. It’s more of an experimental hobby than anything—”


    “You have HOBBIES?”


    He tsked, shifting his lower half en masse to better face her. “I’m a three-dimensional being, Yuu.”


    She matched his angling. “What? And here I thought you were 2-d.”


    He bristled. “Is this going to be a critique on my waistline?”


    She rolled her eyes at him, hearing in his voice that he was about to tease her.


    “It wasn’t. But it certainly could be. You look like a quill with a superiority complex. Are you a man or just an exceptionally irritable coat rack?”


    “Rude,” he remarked, but he looked equal parts impressed at the audacity, and surprised at her critique.


    As though to prove a point, she reached across the space between them and slid her arms down sides, but instead of space found all the hardness of a swimmer’s form.


    “Oh…” she said. “I guess I just expected your shirt to be hollow.”


    “Glares down at her without any ire, appearing more surprised at her proximity.


    “Not that skinny. Just an excellent tailor….and this isn’t actually a shirt, Yuu. It’s just my natural coloring.”


    “My compliments to your tailor.” She pried herself off quickly, blushing. With all the contact they’d had in the past, ahem, she did know that, but putting one’s foot in one’s mouth rarely happens intentionally. “You must think that humans getting a tan is so boring.”


    He huffed a surprised laugh. “That’s all? No concern whatsoever?”


    “Hey, your pattern is pretty enough that I thought it was intentional. Twisted Wonderland is full of things like that.”


    And, it was pretty, if a bit dramatic. The back of his neck was still darkly colored, like a vaudeville collar with none of the cheap texturing, and the pale skin that ran down from his jaw to his lower waist was a perfect, slicing V, that, now she really looked, cut right across natural muscle and skin. Right. It was just him. She’d even seen his jacket dissolve.


    Feeling foolish, Yuu looked away, suddenly aware she was staring.


    He shook his head at her. “What this world must be like to you…”


    She took a deep breath, desperate to pull back from the line she’d crossed.


    “Okay. Three-dimensional person. You have time for hobbies, housewarden duties, and homework. All very impressive. Hey, you even come with three hearts, and probably an extra kidney, too.”


    Azul’s smirk was returning.


    “Was your belief in my skinniness the only thing keeping my kidneys off the black market?”


    She crossed her legs across her lap. “You’ll never know.”


    “...At least you’re not threatening to eat them.”


    Her attention snapped back to him in shock. “WHY would I EAT you??”


    He crossed his arms over his chest, watching her through a hooded gaze.


    “It’s actually tradition to eat a mate you were dissatisfied with.”


    Her mouth fell open, forgetting for a moment that she’d amply signed herself up for this.


    “Azul, you were an excellent mate. I mean, wait, no, that’s not what I—we were terrible mates.” Her hands flew up to her mouth as the arch in his brow got higher. “But not terrible! We weren’t supposed to be—Oh, man… I’ve dug myself this hole, Azul. Just bury me in it already. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to sit here in silence for a moment so that I don’t find more ways to make this sound…um…worse. But if it helps… I’m pretty sure I told you I have a policy against eating friends.”


    “And are we still that?” He nearly whispered it in the dark, and despite being surrounded by lights, she couldn’t decipher the expression on his face.


    She opened her mouth, and closed it again. What could she possibly say to that that wouldn’t hurt them both.


    Sensing her discomfort, he switched angles.


    “May I inquire where this policy originated? Asking for a friend.”


    She sighed, rolling her eyes at him. It was her turn to fall back on the rocky stone for support.


    “It originated from my inner dread,” she deadpanned.


    “Interesting. Is that a human organ I’m not yet aware of?”


    She snorted. “It should be.”


    “Yuu, I…” for a moment, he looked very much like he wanted to say something, and then decided against it. “Satisfied?” he asked instead, holding out a hand.


    “N—oh! Yes, I’ve eaten enough,” she said, handing over the rest of her fruit.


    He dissolved it with his pen, and let the remnants flow into the water. Then, to her great surprise, he pulled out a roll of golden contracts—the ones she’d seen on the way out of Octavinelle. With a wave, and no acknowledgement of her having seen them, he dissolved them as well, letting the golden dust flow over the garden.


    “Weren’t those important to you?” she asked softly.


    He shook his head. “Once upon a time. But I find that they no longer align with certain principles, and the plants out here need magic to survive, so…”


    “Hm,” she murmured, unsure for once of what to say. Only…she’d been wrong. She’d made assumptions on who Azul was, and, well, it was simply an enormous cliche! Everything her feeling had been telling her about where this was had been right, and her head, her head for once, had been wrong, and was happily willing to admit it. She was so relieved, and dumbfounded at the odd surge of emotion that she almost didn’t notice Azul going through his own plight.


    “Before anything else happens, Yuu,” his voice cut through her haze. “I was hoping…well, you did say your goodbyes, I suppose. However, I was hoping you’d let me send something with you.”


    “I can’t pack you in my suitcase,” she said lightly, if a little sadly. “You’d die without the transformation potions in my world…or you’d be trapped. I would never—”


    “I know,” he said with a small smile. As though he’d considered—as though he’d thought of that already.


    “But perhaps you can take a piece of this world with you.”


    Azul was nearly always collected, unless the circumstances were quite extreme, as she’d learned, and though his voice was even, his movements steady, she could have sworn she saw his fingers tremble as he pulled a tiny blue spiral pendant from his side, and held it out to her.


    “I didn’t know what sort of thing you’d like. I’ve never seen you wear jewelry,” he was already apologizing.


    “It’s gorgeous, Azul. Of course I’d wear it. But you didn’t have to do that. I’ve caused you so much trouble.”


    He looked up, and she couldn’t help but notice that it was the same blue as his eyes. Under the sea, they might look the same as everything else, but above water, they were shocking, earnest, and familiar.


    “Not enough,” he swore.


    The silence between them was hard and brittle enough to shatter. Yuu hardly knew what to say, or do, so for once, she took the coward’s approach, and turned away from him.


    “Well…will you put it on me, then?”


    The pause from Azul was just long enough to make her wonder if she’d committed some unforgivable faux pas, until he said:


    “Come a little closer so I can reach.”


    To get closer, she had to move farther up his legs, to where he was sprawled at the edge of the rocky bowl.


    Sitting with her back close enough to feel the heat radiating from his torso, she sat as still as a ghost as he fastened the surprisingly comfortable chain around her neck, hesitantly, as though he were trying to touch her as little as possible.


    He said nothing when he’d finished, probably waiting for her to scurry off of him, but for Yuu…for Yuu, suddenly, it felt as though every second were being counted with a sledgehammer. Before she’d had a way to return home, she’d thrown herself into this life with everything she’d had, not knowing if it would ever end, and somehow, along the way, she’d begun to want it that way.


    There would never be any substitute for her family. However, the dawning truth was slipping through her soul—that there would never be any substitute for the family she''d built here—even if it did come in the form of a whiny cat demon, and the most damage-prone friends in the city. Nor, would there be a substitute for the rising bond she’d forged with Azul…even if he didn’t feel the same.


    After all, this had come from a friendship, to be sure. Anything beyond that had been Mallory’s blasted dust….hadn’t it?


    This didn’t feel like any other friendship she had, though. This felt like trust, and perhaps something else. Something that was worth following. And perhaps worth…a risk?


    It was a small movement, but to Yuu, it felt like a monumental leap as she gave up part of that draining fight she hadn’t known she was waging, and let her torso fall back the last few inches of space between herself and Azul’s chest.


    She heard his breath hitch behind her, and then, his arms were around her middle, wrapping and pulling her the rest of the way, as he buried his face in her neck, covering the faded healing mark of the bite that started all of this.


    Whether intentionally or not, his mouth brushed the fading scar, and though there shouldn’t have been any magic left in the mark—at least not the kind meant to bind—it lit up with sensation anyway. The pendant around her neck answered with an echoing call, both saying the same thing: they were there to protect. To save. To keep.


    “It feels like you,” Yuu gasped, touching the pendant.


    Azul twitched. “The pendant, or…?”


    “Yes,” she affirmed.


    A pensive humming vibrated through the lower parts of his ribs. “It…it shouldn’t.”


    “But it does have your magic?”


    He nodded hesitantly into her shoulder. “It does. You can feel that?”


    She shrugged, his hair tickling her neck. “I can’t feel anyone else’s like that. Only yours. Maybe it will make me miss you less—”


    She cut herself off. This was not the time. It wasn’t—


    Somewhere on her midsection, Azul’s fingers laced through hers. He didn’t respond with words, or pressure, or worse, pleas, but, as gently as though he thought he would break this moment before it could take form, he carried her hand up to her shoulder and pressed it to his mouth—so softly that she wondered if he was there at all.


    She pulled away just enough to see part of his face, eyes nearly closed, and trained on her still.


    She turned into him, placing one knee on his hip so that she could see his face. If his arms hadn’t still been around her, she might have fallen over—her world felt as though it was tilting. She had to angle herself up quite sharply to see him, and he let her, leaning his forehead down to rest on her own.


    “I thought…I always thought it was the dust,” she whispered.


    One of Azul’s tentacles caught her waist, steadying her enough that his hand could trace her jaw. Her face. Her slow-drying hair.


    Eyes nearly closed, he placed another of those intensely soft kisses on her lower jaw, making her tremble.


    She was the one who often charged into situations without thinking—who jumped without checking the waters below.


    Azul never was.


    So, if he wasn’t being influenced by anything right now, that meant he had amply thought this through—that he had decided—


    “It was never just the dust, Yuu,” he said, kissing her again, higher this time. Then again, so close to the corner of her mouth, her thoughts fuzzed. His mouth was smooth and cool, and soothing against her face, which had spontaneously decided that it wanted to be on fire.


    “Hm?” was all she could manage.


    “Neither of us are dusted anymore.”


    He said it, so close to her mouth that his lips brushed hers as he spoke, kissing her softly with every syllable. Yuu’s throat had gone so dry it hurt. There was a wild, beating thing in her ribs demanding to be released. Every inch of her that wasn’t touching him was beginning to ache.


    With reaching fingers and tremulous breath, Yuu reached for Azul, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and neck, and grabbing for his hair, his skin, him, and she closed the polite, courteous space that he was giving her.


    It was a long, aching, questioning heartbeat before he answered—like he wasn’t expecting this in the first place. For a moment, Azul didn’t move. Then, as if some dam had broken, his hands came up, grasping her waist, holding her as though she might disappear if he didn’t anchor her there. He kissed her back, and oh, he was good at it. Years of smooth talk and charm distilled into something devastatingly real. He was careful. He was controlled. He was civilized.


    Awful.


    The reality that Azul, and all of his possibilities and potential together with hers could be slipping through her fingers in a matter of days, or hours—or worse—the idea that he expected this gesture of affection to be a farewell, gave her the the sort of desperate, seeking desire that undid any tact she should have approached this moment bearing.


    Her knees gripped his waist, straddling him as close as he would allow, and she poured herself into trying to tell him at an urgent, gasping pace, the depth to which she’d fallen.


    “Azul,” she managed to breathe, but before she could confess anything truly, at the sound of his name, Azul’s grip tightened, pulling her closer. His hands found her waist, pulling her in with a suddenness that stole her breath this time. He kissed her back, and oh, he was thorough about it, like he was trying to make up for every second he’d spent resisting, for every moment he’d let pass without doing this sooner.


    But it still felt like goodbye, or at least, like he was delaying one.


    “Azu—”


    He made a strangled noise, and kissed her harder, this time, flipping them about suddenly, so that her back was pressed against the rock, and he, with his massive reach, fastened them to it. No longer bound, her ankles wrapped around his waist, and fastened her there clinging—she no longer knew whether for balance, or for…for something.


    Yuu’s lips parted, and Azul followed, his tongue meeting hers with slow, deliberate strokes, tasting her. The world around them seemed to quiet, every sound fading into the background until there was only the sound of their shared breaths and the soft rush of water nearby. Her movements were gentle at first, tentative, like she was savoring every second of this stolen moment, but then her hand slid from his hair to the back of his neck, fingers pressing lightly into the tendons, pulling him deeper into the kiss, and he met her arching with his own, pulling a sound from her throat that she’d never heard before.


    Curling around her carefully, two of his tentacles wrapped around her legs, fastening her more securely—though to her great dissatisfaction, he didn’t bring her any closer. Still, the contact was warm and tender—and far more than she would have had with a human—more than she would have had with anyone, something within her whispered.


    But even with all the movement, the closeness, the soft sighs that escaped between them, it still felt like something fragile. A moment caught in time, too precious to break, and yet too necessary to hold back. Azul’s breath hitched as he pulled away just a fraction, their lips still brushing with every exhale.


    She reached out to stop him, clinging to him, as much as the moment.


    “Wait,” she pleaded, because she was not above pleas.