Of Fangs & Fins ✔

26. Home

SR: Timmies - Hometown

Twenty-Six.

Marina.

I paced the living room, debating whether to run upstairs and talk to her. The other part, the darker part, that one that I kept pressed down for so long couldn't stop thinking to walk away.

Out of here, away from her.

But I was on a fucking island, a vampire's biggest fucking weakness.

I looked down at the clothes again, wondering whose they were. Marina seemed very familiar with this place. She knew where everything was without hesitation. And the scent...

I lifted the shirt to my nose and inhaled deeply. Definitely wasn't Marina's scent. There was a more floral smell to it. It could've been her mother or her sister.

Nerissa.

I haven't given much thought to the woman. Lucinda and Sagan... we all fed from her. That was a time that I lost restraint, it was hard to not feed on mermaids that would come across my bar.

Marina couldn't know Sagan was involved. We were going back home soon and if she knew, Sagan wouldn't hesitate to keep her quiet.

I sighed.

I wasn't proud of the sins that I pulled in different parts of my life, especially this one. I thought it would be better to keep it from Marina, to protect her from a long instance of disappointment.

I had to find Luce.

I had to get back to Seattle as fast as possible and I needed to continue to track Luce.

An itchy sensation crawled its way up my chest. I frowned in discomfort and rubbed the bandage above my heart. I didn't remember the last time I wore a bandage. I felt human.

If you're human enough to feel that, then you're human enough to stop running away.

Without thinking I turned around and took the stairs by two, listening for the shower running. I ignored the stabs of pain in my back with every step I took.

A door was slightly ajar across the bathroom and I approached it. I opened the door and walked inside, connecting the scent of the sweater to the room. No one had been here in a long time save for Marina.

I brushed my fingers over the purple quilt and looked at the dresser. Tiny squares of flowers decorated the dresser. I picked on up and traced the thick-lined strokes. Yellow and blue mixed together, blending greens. The same scent of the sweater surrounded the canvass as well. Marina's mother was an artist. This must've been her room.

"What are you doing in here?"

I turned around.

Marina stood in the doorway with light droplets scattered throughout her body. Her hair dripped down the white towel wrapped tightly around her body.

I couldn't stand there with my mouth gaping like a bloke.

"Sorry, I... I picked up on the scent that clung to the sweater and it brought me here."

Marina nodded, tightening the towel around her. "This was my mother's room."

"I figured as much."

She looked down at the paintings in front of me. "She painted those."

I glanced at them. "They're beautiful."

"I liked to draw a little, paint like she did, but I'm not as good as she was," she replied, walking toward the dresser.