That's one of the other things I love about the beach is how it sounds at night: muted and amplified all at the same time, which is mostly how life sounds for me overall, quieted in places and overly loud in others, only I don't get to pick and it's never the same things at the same time. The surf is loud, pounding out an unsteady beat against the shore. My heart tries to match, tries to prove we're kindred, tries to prove my blood is seawater within but I only end up feeling dizzy and weak in the face of so much directionless power.
It's not directionless. The tide goes in, the tide goes out. It pulls the moon. 'Tis a game to her. Lochlan says it softly, such beautiful words in his quiet lilt. My eyes fill up and defocus and now everything is black. I would find my way by sound, but I don't have echolocation. I would find my way by touch but I've touched the ocean floor and she wants to keep me. I would try not to cry but it's pointless, for words are never just words, are they?
She's a lot like you.
In what way?
Beautiful beyond words. Bottomless. Playful yet dangerous. And blue. Always blue. He stares at me just a little bit shyly. Words always came easily when he was teaching, never when he was describing what was in his heart. Then he would trip and stumble, picking up speed, dropping letters, doubling back for meanings, making sure I understood what he meant, even as I've never had the same difficultly when I couldn't grasp the language for the life of me half the time in the most basic of fashions.
Blue.
Blue. She's yours. It's why we're here. Well, she and the Collective.
I smile quickly and then it's gone off to hide in the dark somewhere.
You can have what you want, Bridget. We've had this conversation. I don't know if you need a reminder or if you're looking for some sort of permission but this entire commune is yours. You do what you want.
Another smile. This smile says Bridget's about to barf.
Loch-
I'm not going to spend the next six months watching you set up some elaborate game with Dalton, he your moon, you the ocean.
Ah.
Just drown him up front. Bring him back. Get on with things.
That's abrupt.
I didn't say it wouldn't kill me.
Then I'll banish him.
Then someone else becomes a target.
Then I'll banish them all.
You sound like a benevolent queen.
Who would do anything for her king. Oops. Freakishly loud in a moment where everything else suddenly muted.
He smiles so warmly it's hard to enjoy the cold night air in the tortured state I was expecting. One of the joys of loving a redhead is you're perpetually sticking your hands, fingers, toes, heart and brain into the fire alongside them. Them and their mixed messages.
I love you. But you can still have Dalton.
What if I don't want him?
No one believes that.
I don't want him this week. Or this season, I mean. He seems like a spring...er...fling.
Lochlan throws back his head and laughs. This is why I love you.
Because I have now almost slept with the entire collective?
No, because when offered something once forbidden on a silver platter you suddenly duck and run.
I'm going to go for a swim.
Cool off?
Drown.
Bridge-
I don't mean ACTUALLY.
No swimming. Besides, we have plans.
What did you do?
You'll see. But Dalton's invited so we should really go now. Brush the sand off your bum and put a smile on your face there, bluebird.
