Sophie

“Yes!” The enthusiasm in Riley’s voice startles me back into focusing on her rather than the game. “Check!”

I stare silently over the game, note her move. She put too much focus into it and seems to have forgotten her other pieces. I move my castle, taking her previously threatening rook, and completing my surround attack. “Checkmate,” I counter.

I watch Riley’s eye dart over the board and the pieces, clearly looking for an opening I might have missed; something to counteract my statement. I see the muscle in her jaw tense, her lips opening slightly; with disbelief or protest, I'm not sure. Then her ice blue orbs, narrowed with determination, fixate on me. “Rematch,” she demands, her voice a flustered hiss. Her fins curl up and flick back out, reminding me of a cat lashing its tail, in a clear irritation that makes me chuckle even as I shake my head.

“No, this was our fourth game and you swore at the end of the last one that this would be the final round. I think we should call it a day. You are supposed to resting after all and this is clearly getting you worked up.”

Riley snorts. “I am not worked up,” she protests.

“Either way, I think I’ve had my fill of chess for today,” I say as I sweep the pieces back into the box and fold in the board. “You seem a little better today; certainly less pale. How’s the pain been?” I ask. It’s been three days since Riley was brought in and I’m still very concerned for her health.

“Better,” Riley replies.

“The painkillers are helping?” I raise an eyebrow at her, knowing how difficult she’s been the past couple of days about taking them. She nods, her hair falling into her face. She blows them back and gives her head a shake. “Are those natural?” I find myself asking. “The bangs? They’re a bit of an unusual color.”

Riley shrugs. “Yeah, I know, but they have always been that way, and have never grown past my jawline. I have never cut them.”

I frown. It’s a bit of a strange notion to process. “And what about the fins on your arms?” I inquire. “I don’t remember seeing them until the one was pressed against my throat.”

Riley ducks her head. “Sorry about that,” she whispers, as though apologizing feels alien to her. “I have a tendency to react badly to strange people and places, especially if I am injured and the person could be a threat.”

“I know,” I reply. “It’s okay, no harm done.” I reach out and gently brush my fingers over her forearm, pausing just before the colorful, spiny fin. I watch it quiver and flex, folding up against her arm. Seconds later it vanishes from sight, seeming to disappear entirely into the skin of her arm. I feel my mouth drop open slightly.

Riley shrugs. “To answer your question; my spines merge with my arm if I want them to. I am not quite sure how, but I imagine it works the same way it does with my gills. I do not pull them in often, but it does make it a little more comfortable when sleeping. I can do the same thing with my gliders.”

“Those big fins on your hips?” I ask.

Riley nods, her fin pulling free of her skin once more.

“That’s amazing,” I comment. I gesture to the fin on her arm, now curious to see what it feels like. “May I?”

“Uh, sure, I guess,” Riley answers as she hesitantly offers out her arm. I run my finger up a spine, smooth and slightly cold to the touch; it feels sharp even without poking the top. I gently touch the thin membrane spider-webbed between the spines, afraid that I may accidentally tear the thin looking fin. It has a silky and almost saran wrap feel to it, but it also much more rigid than I thought. Riley shudders as I touch it. “That kind of tickles.”

“Sorry.” I let my hand drop away and meet her gaze instead.

She shrugs, the stretches out, tail muscles bunching, fins flaring. A simple motion that then causes her face to cave with pain, a soft whimper dying in her throat. “This sucks,” she sighs after a moment.

“I know it’s hard, but you're going to have to try to just lie there and not move around much.”

Riley groans. “Yeah, that is the hard part. I am not so good at lying around.”

“Maybe I can help distract you for a moment.” I jump at the sound of Lewis’s voice behind me. I hadn’t heard him come in. He grins at me and offers me a mischievous wink. I roll my eyes at him.

“You're not funny,” I inform him.

“Coffee?” He offers, nodding his head towards the two steaming mugs on the counter. He must have brought them in with him.

“Thanks,” I cave with a smile, retrieving the mug with the lighter colored liquid. “Though how you drink yours black I will never know.”

He shrugs and turns his attentions to Riley. “How’s the pain?” he asks.

“Bearable as long as I do not move or breathe,” Riley grumbles.

“Perhaps we’ll give you some more painkillers afterwards. But right now I need to take a listen to your chest,” he says, sticking his stethoscope buds into his ears and pressing the end against Riley’s torso, just above her scale line. “Take a really deep breath for me and hold it.”

I watch Riley wince and pale a bit. Her jaw tightens and then her chest expands, slowly and shakily, as pained creases worm across her face.

“Good, now breathe out slowly,” Lewis murmurs. After a moment, he pulls the chest piece away from her skin. “Alright, now I need you to take some medication-” Lewis breaks off as he turns and glances around. “Now where did I put-”

I cut him off by clearing my throat as I finish measuring out the dosage written on the bottle. “Uh, Lewis? You left it with the coffee,” I state as I hold up the medicine cup.

“Right, thanks, Soph,” he replies, taking it from me.

“Mhm,” I respond as I take a drink of the coffee in my hand. I watch Lewis hand Riley the medicine cup.

She eyes the murky red-black liquid with a calculating and suspicious gaze. “What is this exactly?”

“Medication,” Lewis answers. “It will help ward off infection and fight the slight fever you are beginning to come down with. Injured as you are, you cannot afford to get sick because I honestly doubt you’d be able to fight it off. Drink it.”

After a moment or two of hesitation, Riley presses the cup against her lips and downs the liquid in a single gulp. Then she begins to cough, gagging as she clearly struggles to force it down. “That stuff is awful,” she manages after a moment, her eyes scrunched, nose wrinkled in disgust.

Lewis chuckles as he leans against the counter. “Well, what were you expecting it to taste like? It’s medicine.”

I shake my head. “Oh, come off her case. If I remember correctly, you moaned and complained for weeks about the taste of the bronchitis medication you had to take in high school,” I state. “It was rather pathetic.”

“Says the woman who, to this day, cannot swallow a pill,” Lewis counters.

“I can swallow a pill,” I scoff, bumping him with my hip. “It just takes me a little longer, that’s all.”

“Hmm, right.”

I take another drink of my coffee and watch how Riley’s head tilts slightly as she looks between us. “So, how long have the two of you been mates?”

Her question startles me and it takes me a moment to actually answer her. Beside me, I hear Lewis choking on the coffee he was previously drinking. I clear my throat a little before addressing the teen’s question. “Riley, no; Lewis and I aren’t together. We’re just good friends.”

Riley snorts and shakes her head. “Whatever you say,” she replies.

Silence falls over the three of us and I cannot help but notice Lewis scuffing the tip of his shoe across the floor tiles, his fingertips and knuckles white from clenching the blue coffee mug in his hands. There appears to be a bit of sombre mood hanging over him as he purses his lips and doesn’t speak.

Riley’s fins twitch and she appears uncomfortable in the awkward silence. “Um-” she’s cut off by the rumble of her own stomach.

I can’t help but smile, laughing internally. “Hungry?” I ask. Lewis hasn’t let her eat anything yet for fear of it upsetting her stomach. Throwing up would not be good for her recovery process. Still, we cannot let her live off of I.V fluids for much longer, she would get very sick and weak from that, and I doubt that Lewis wants to do the surgery for a feeding tube. I glance at him now, wondering what his plan is.

He clears his throat and nods, pushing away from the counter. “Yes, well I do want you to start eating again, but we’ll take it slowly. What do you normally eat?”

“I am not picky,” she replies. “Virtually anything I can catch or find. Fish, crustaceans, kelps and grasses, fruits... anything really.”

Lewis bobs his head softly, clearly thinking. “Alright, well, I’ll want to monitor you throughout and we’ll start mall. Ground up fish in a hot water bath. Won't be much in the way of taste, but it should be gentle on your systems. I also want you to be drinking a fair amount of water. Keeping you out of the water like this is making me nervous, but it’s for the best, so I need to make sure you stay hydrated. If you start to feel overly tired or dried out, be sure to say something, alright?”

Riley nods in agreement. “Okay,” she replies.

“Good. I’m going to go get things prepared then; I’ll be back in about half an hour. I want you to try and get some rest while I’m gone,” Lewis orders.

“I guess that means I should get going too and give you a chance to relax. I’ll come check in on you again later, alright?” I say to the girl. “And I’ll bring another game or something down for you and we’ll play.”

Riley smiles. “Thank you. I appreciate it. You need not fuss over me like this, though. I am alright.”

“I know,” I reply. “I just want to make sure.” I pick up the chess box and clutch it to my chest so I can put it away after. “Get some sleep alright?”

“Alright,” Riley agrees. “I suppose there is not much else for me to do anyways. She pauses a moment before adding, “do you think you could make it dark in here again? Like you did last time.”

“Of course,” I answer. “I'll see you later.” I follow Lewis out into the hall, clicking the light off and closing the door as I do. Lewis and I walk silently, side by side, down the brightly lit hallway. Once we’ve rounded the corner and I’m certain we’re out of range of Riley’s very excellent hearing, I corner Lewis against the algae green wall. “What was that back there?” I demand.

“What? Riley’s comment? I have no idea where it came from,” he protests.

I shake my head. “Not her comment, your reaction. Why is it that when I corrected her, you looked like a kicked puppy?” I watch his face fall, watch him fall silent and get slightly fidgety like he does when he wants to avoid a conversation. “Lewis?”

He sighs, rubs the back of his neck. “We aren’t together, but… I, uh, I’ve wanted to be for a while now,” he admits.

Shock courses through me, though I force myself not to visibly recoil in case he takes it the wrong way and I hurt his feelings. “How long is a while?” I ask.

“Uh, since I first had a crush on you in eleventh grade,” he replies.

“High school. Lewis, why did you never say anything?” I exclaim.

He shrugs. “At first, because I was new, shy, and knew you had feelings for Michael.”

“Not a valid excuse. Roxanne and Michael got together in eleventh grade. I was fine with it, moved on. And that was years ago.”

“Like I said, I was shy. By the time I had worked up the nerve to ask you, you were going on that trip and, well, after…” He trails off.

I close my eyes, pain digging its cruel talons into my heart at the bitter reminder of everything that cursed trip cost me. I nod my head and wet my lips. “You could have just said that was why,” I answer finally. “That you want a family. I’ve always known that would be the reason things tore apart in-”

“No, Soph, that has absolutely nothing to do with it. I meant that when you got home, you needed friends, support; not my wishes and feelings. And yes, I’ll admit that when I was a stupid kid, I got hung up on that; hesitated at the thought of not being a father, of never raising a child. I was foolish and I’ve regretted the hesitation every day since I realized that I was okay with it.”

“When did you realize that?”

“I think it fully hit me on my twentieth birthday,” he responds. “When Roxanne and Michael were moving in together, when my sister was with a guy, and I was still alone, still stuck on my feelings. I realized then that I probably never would be a father anyways because I wasn’t going to ever want a relationship with anyone else. I would have told you then, almost did, but-”

“I was seeing someone,” I finish for him. “It ended badly. I knew it would.”

Lewis nods. “Yeah, well then we just got so busy with building this place up and getting settled into our adult lives that time slipped by. And now… Well with recent events, I just,” he hesitates. “I figured you needed a friend more than you needed-”

I hold up a hand, stop him there, and shake my head. “Sometimes you are too stupidly selfless for your own good. You should have said something. I see you every day Lewis. If Riley hadn’t of said something today and brought this about, would you ever have told me?” I demand, shocked to the core at how ironically stupid and ignorant we’d both been. I had once looked at him to. My reasons for never speaking up were the same they’ve always been; my hesitation to get into something and ruin a friendship because I can’t give the one thing most couples eventually want. So, I had buried my feelings and moved on. But secretly I was thrilled when he agreed to go into business with me and if I had known this forever ago, things may have been very different. I listen to him babble on about an apology and an explanation for only a few seconds longer before I become frustrated and put an end to it.

I fist my fingers into the collar of his shirt and kiss him. It’s a little sloppy, and I very nearly miss his lips entirely, still catch his stubbled cheek, but I simply blame it on the fact that it has been a very long time since I’ve done this.

After a moment, I pull away and offer Lewis a smile; one I doubt he actually registers due to the dumbfounded and blank look on his face. “We’ll talk after,” I tell him with a wink. “Right now we have a hungry Mer to feed.”