When morning arrives and I'm done brushing my teeth, I find myself standing in front of the bathroom mirror and glaring at the reflection of the woman staring back at me.

The blue hair was a frazzled mess atop her hair, dark circles bagged the lower part of her eyes and the face despite how ghostly it looked due to lack of sleep was more tolerable than the crook of her neck.

Because that gods damned part was branded by an ever-growing dark purplish mark. Mark of teeths. Mark of a.....

Ugh. I'm going to kill him.

Taking an one-eighty turn, I storm out of the bathroom and then my room, down the stairs.

"Zander! You devil incarnate!" I yell at the top of my lungs searching for him like a crazed woman through the arrays of rooms here.

Venturing into the kitchen where I hear movements from, "Look what you di-"

My words stop short the moment I enter the confines of the kitchen. The smell of spices sizzled in the air as Zander stood in front of the stove flipping a pancake, half naked if I might add.

Dark washed jeans hung low on his hips and it took everything in me not to ogle at the expanse of muscles and skin let on plain view.

My sight lingered on the tattoo of wings marring the upper part of his shoulders at the back.

But before I could take into each and every intricate pattern of the tattoo though, Zander turned around.

His eyes roamed from my foot to the silk maroon robe I'd changed into yesterday night after he left, those gaze darken the slightest bit before settling on my face.

Zander switches off the gas and leans back against the counter. A smirk pulls onto his lips as he crosses his arms over his chest, muscles flexing and all, "Like what you see, fish?"

Rolling my eyes, I cross my arms over my chest mimicking him, "I've seen and touched stuff better."

A venomous look crosses over his face before he laughs it off, "Liar. I've never seen you be serious with anyone."

"Very daring of you to assume that when you practically didn't even know me more than a month ago. Do not think I'm a Nun. I've had my share of fun. I've lived far too long afterall."

Zander doesn't retort and I don't bother to decipher what look he had on his face now.

Unclasping my crossed arms, I let them fall to my side as I make my way over to settle on the marbled kitchen island.

Finally I decide to quip my attention back to him to break the silence in the air, "You can cook?" I ask with a tilt to my head.

Zander's eyes twinkles at the question and in a long time, I see somewhat off a very genuine smile pull onto his lips.

"Yep." That smile remains intact, "My mother thought me. She was a stricter when it came to learning chores, whether it be a girl or a boy. She believed both should know how to do their work and not depend on the other. I can do every house chores existing, you know."

"Wow." A short laugh escapes my mouth, "That was unexpected of you."

His eyes squint at my words, "What do you take me for, amore?"

Ignoring the endearment, "A lazy to the bones man."

Zander places a hand over his bare chest and gives me a horrified look, "You wound my fragile heart."

I roll my eyes at his antics before my eyes flickers towards the slight ink of the tattoo peeking over his shoulder blades.

"Where'd you get that tattoo from? It's. . .beautiful." This time when I meet his eyes, the laughter is gone from them replaced by a rather agonized look.

But before I could gauze at it more, he blinks and the expression turns to a blank one.

He glances down at his hands and when I think he's not going to answer the question,

"Laira drew the tattoo on me." He whispers, a faraway look in his eyes, "She loved my wings. And she knew I loved them too. But because I couldn't flare them open everyday, she drew the tattoo on me as a reminder that it'll always remain with me whether I flare them or not. She . . . ."

Despite the sudden feeling of guilt and something pricky and sour clawing at my heart, I listen without uttering a word knowing he has more to say.

"She said she's like the wings too. She'd remain with me forever in my heart whether she's always with me or not. I. . .miss her so much sometimes." For the first I'd met Zander, I see a horde of vulnerability and feeling of loss coat his expression and he didn't hide it in front of me.

He grew silent. So very quiet. Not meeting my eyes anymore.

I get down from the counter and feel my hands itch to do something, say something. Embrace him, tell him it's going to be better or show any form of comfort.

But my bitchy self couldn't bring myself to be all softy all of a sudden now. And I couldn't for the life of me, give him or anyone any words of false hope. Because I knew better than anyone that missing your loved ones never becomes less painful.

So instead, I tell him something I hadn't told anyone ever, something I'd never confessed verbally to myself either, "I miss someone a lot too, you know. I know it should be my parents, it should be all the friends I'd lost along the way, maybe even the guy I thought I might've loved or all the close ones to me who died but no. The person I miss is very much alive and breathing but still so faraway. . . ."

Zander lifts his head up to look at me, his eyes observing and somewhat warm as if he knew just who I was talking about and didn't mind. Didn't think it was absurd of me to miss the very person who wanted to kill me.

Maybe it is that very knowledge which has me spilling more words than I'd have allowed myself to,

"I miss Layla." I admit the words out in the open for the first time, "I miss the sister who told me stories to sleep, who held my hand as I took my first steps, who came searching for me whenever I lost my way in the seas, who did every stupid thing I asked her to without any question but with a lot of grumbling under breath, who was more the mother-hen to me than my own mother. My parents loved us too although they were always busy with their crown duties but Layla, she was with me all the damn time. " A short painful laugh escapes my lips.

My eyes drop to my bright blue hair as I lift a strand, "My hair. . .no one has my hair colour. And my eyes. . ." I shift my gaze to him, "No offspring had ever had eyes that changes colours with the weather of the ocean. Not my mother, nor grandmother or anyone ever heard off. It was unique but so very. . .strange."

A frown settles upon Zander's lips at the last word but he keeps quiet, listening attentively as I continue,

"The merfolks, I don't know whether they thought it as a threat or flaw, but they didn't like it. They. . .they didn't really attack me with actions but they attacked me with their words. Some very nasty words. I used to hate them; the merfolks, the sea-land, everything in the Underseas except my family and Ursula. Most of the times when Layla was in school, I'd ditch my class and stick around on the lands with Valerian like a glue-stick nuisance.

"In my advantage Valerian, despite acting as if annoyed, would never mumble a word about it to anyone and was just another silent nuisance sulking with me under a huge banyan tree, ditching his own classes and compelling both of our teachers to believe we were indeed in classes and not absent." A chortle rumbled in my head at the mention of that somewhat of an another sibling I had, just not blood related.

"But one day, when I was returning back home, this group of nymphs spotted me snitching classes. They confronted to tell my parents and called me names and I don't know, I used to be so lame and dumb and pathetic back then, that I started wailing and begging them not to. I still have no idea why I was such a weakling then. It wasn't like I was doing something illegal. If my parents knew the real reason I ditched class, they'd understand and even take actions. I should've known." I shook my head in disappointment.

"But I didn't and the nymphs took it as an advantage to bully me. Sometimes they'd even strike and when I returned home, Layla would be the first one to notice the tiniest of the scratches on my skin. I used to come up with the stupidest excuses. But ofcourse, her being the smart-ass she is, didn't buy it."

I stole a glance at Zander, his attention was so focused on me in curiosity, listening to each word with such precision as if I were narrating world history. It almost bought a funny smile on my face. Almost.

But ignoring the bubbling feeling, I went along with the story, "Layla followed me to school the next day-I'd stopped ditching them to stop falling into more trouble then-and after school, when the nymphs approached me again to pick on me, Layla appeared out of nowhere and she punched my bullies in their faces."

A laugh escaped my lips reminiscing the image of the ten-year-old standing like a fireball with her hands on her hips in front of the sixteen-year-olds twice her size and glaring at them as if she intended to bury them on their spots.

"Those nymphs were furious. They looked ready to murder us both but before they could reach us, Layla grabbed my arm and pulled me along to a mad dash of a run as we fleed from there. It was the most stupidest thing she'd ever done, punching the egoistic nymphs and fleeing, but it also has to be the most sweetest thing she'd done for me. And in her defense, we were royals. So those nymphs were no comparison to our speed in a run even if we were half their size."

"When we reached home to the castle, Layla stormed into the throne room where Mama and Papa were and you know what she did?" This time when I look at him, there's bright laughter in my eyes and a silly smile on my face.

Zander's own lips tugs into an amused grin, "What did she do, fishy?"

"She threw a hysterical fit in the court in front of everyone saying and I quote, 'Mama, Papa! The nymphs threatened to end the future bloodline! They threatened to kill me and Marilla too! We almost died! But we ran for our lives. Please save us!'" I laughed and Zander joined along with a 'Wow'.

With a strange excitement running through my veins, I took a step towards Zander flailing about my arms in exaggerating actions, "And when the nymphs reached the court and everyone accused them of murder, they were like 'When did we even say that-'. But then Layla threw another fit of hysterics and ofcourse, people bought the innocent ten-year-old's act. The nymphs were thrown out of the school and surrounded by guards to keep tab on their actions since as minors, they couldn't be given grave punishments. But they were finally off my back. Because of Layla."

"Then you know what Layla told me when we were back in our rooms?" I raise a brow towards Zander with the ever-present smile still intact on my face, "She told me I could now happily skip more of my classes without any hassle."

Zander's own brows raised in surprise, "She knew all along you skipped." He stated with an infectious smile.

"Hell yeah!" I lifted my arms in the air, "I was so surprised myself. She didn't know the reason why I skipped though and when she asked me that day, I spoke honestly. Because she deserved to know after the stunt she pulled for me. That day after I recited the reason to Layla, I got a big two hour rant from my sister. Not on against skipping classes though, she chastised me on ever believing those 'vily nymphs' words."

My eyes softened reminiscing about that day, "She said that the court was just envious of what they didn't have themselves. That I should never doubt my appearance. She, for the first time, didn't call me a dork or a mischievous mouse, she called me beautiful. And that was when she nick-named me 'Sea doll'.

"Ever since that two hours of rant, I never doubted my appearance ever again. Instead, I learnt to love myself as I was. Just like Layla said, I wasn't like everyone else. I wasn't the common one. I was the unique one. The kohinoor diamond or something like that. And I was beautiful the way I was. So that's that. End of the story."

I saw a twinkle of warmth glinting in Zander's eyes. He took a step closer and then another and then another until he was standing so close to me, I could feel his breath against my face.

"That was the first time I saw you so happy speaking about something and that was a very heart-warming moment. Thank you for sharing it with me, Marilla. And. . ."

Raising a hand, he tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. Holding my face with both his warm large palms, he lifted my face enough that I was peering right into his eyes.

I felt my breath hitch a little as he leaned his face closer to mine. Zander rested his forhead against mine and those grey eyes stared right through my soul as he said,

"She was right. You're indeed beautiful."

This chapter was sorta...emotional to write. Hope you liked it!

Why do you think Marilla has such strong connection to the sea that even her eyes and hair are connected to them? Any theories?👀

ALSO A VERY VERY VERY HAPPY CHILDREN'S DAY! Coz c'mon we'll all remain children at heart and cherish our childhood no matter how old we grow! So kudos to childhood and this day!🤧💃