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Pride Month Bonus ITS Part 2

Ivy's POV
Lizzie just blinks at me like I spoke gibberish. She doesn't know yet just how little I've told her about my life... mostly because I didn't know how.

But she doesn't know how to tell me her problems either. We both have secrets, and to be brutally honest, I'm sick of mine.

"Twenty nine years ago, my name was not Ivy. That was not the name I was born with. I was born Ivan Thrall on a balmy March day, right before a brilliant thunderstorm struck Alleba and drowned us in two feet of flooding. I wonder if it is any surprise I had such an interest in swimming."

Lizzie nods, following along but clearly unable to see where I'm going with this.

"I was unbothered as a child. I could be free, have no judgements, and do almost anything. Except for one thing. I couldn't sing. It bothered me, but clearly not to the extent it bothered a certain pop star. But those are the iron clad rules for all siren children, no matter what."

Lizzie's mouth fell open. I couldn't bring myself to meet her eyes, choosing instead to glare at the sand.

"I didn't choose to have a hypnotic and semi dangerous voice, just as I didn't choose to be a guy. But unlike the second one, the first one was completely and utterly unchangeable."

"You, a siren?!" Lizzie exclaimed. "I mean, I guessed there was something up with Kayden, but I never suspected..."

I force myself to meet her gaze with a sheepish smile. "Sorry I couldn't join you in karaoke, Babe."

"I thought you just had stage fright or something." Surprisingly, Lizzie doesn't even look mad. Just completely dumbfounded.

"No." I tell her, crossing my arms over my chest. "I just couldn't handle the thought of accidentally hurting someone."

"You wouldn't hurt anyone." Lizzie mumbles, her eyes never leaving mine. "You're incapable."

Another advantage, or disadvantage, of being an empath. I feel every bit of pain I inflict, purposefully or accidentally, on someone. So Lizzie is technically right. I can't come anywhere close to hurting anyone in any way without feeling sick to my stomach.

I accept her words with a nod of my head, and force myself to continue.

"But childhood innocence only goes so far. I made it to age 11, but then my behavior became erratic, panicked. I couldn't explain it when others asked, but I felt terrified of myself. And I loathed it. It took months, but my parents figured it out before I did, with the help of a therapist. She asked the one question no one had really thought of. 'Ivan,' she said, 'When you think about your future, who do you want to be?' And it just got me thinking. Not what did I want to be, as in a job or something, but who. And it just clicked for me, that I was something I did not want to be. So... I changed. I changed my style, my identity, my school, and my name. My parents let me pick my own name, saying it was only fair. I chose the name Ivoreline Thrall, or Ivy for short, and never looked back. And now here we are."

I smile to myself as I think about it. Self-discovery is perhaps one of the most difficult things I have ever attempted. And it is still a work in progress. I would have given up within a week if it weren't for all the support I received from my parents. As their only child, I am their whole world. It never crossed my mind that they would ever try to stop me for a moment.

They hated limiting my singing as it was. So they sought to support me in any and everything else so long as I wasn't hurting myself or anyone else. Looking back, I realize they had no idea what I was going through. But they tried to understand and help. I've never really thanked them enough for that.

Maybe I should call them tomorrow.

In the meantime, I try not to look too afraid of Lizzie's reaction. This is the second time I've just dumped a ton of information on her at once, and I can't help but be slightly scared she'll distance herself again, or worse, run away completely. I work to keep my face impassive, but I know I'm only kidding myself.

If I can read Lizzie with my empath abilities, she can read me like an open book, no abilities required.

She sighs and kisses my cheek. "Ivy, I'm not going anywhere. Although... I can barely believe everything you just said... I want to know, why didn't you tell me you were a siren?"

"You wouldn't have believed me." I shrug simply. "We are considered basically myths now, even though we live right in front of your nose."

Lizzie doesn't contradict me. She knows I'm right.

"Anything else?" Is all she asks.

I sigh. She really does know me too well.

"Some sirens have certain... abilities." I admit, choosing my words carefully. "I can... do certain things normal people can't."

Lizzie looks at me with bright curiosity. "What can you do?"

I'm almost surprised by her enthusiasm. Almost. My abilities tell me everything I need to know.

"Nothing major." I tell her. "I'm an empath, so I know what everyone else around me is feeling, and if I try really really hard I can change people's moods. But I try not to do that because their emotions are their own and it's not right for me to take something away from someone like that."

Lizzie's face falls. "So you knew I was completely panicked."

I don't bother to lie. I nod slowly and wrap my arm around her shoulders.

"I did. But that's ok. You can't help how you feel, and it was a clue to me that I'm moving too fast."

Lizzie shook her head, before freezing and suddenly fixing me with a piercing stare. "Are you reading my emotions right now?"

"No?"

I wonder what she's up to, and then she basically tackles me to the sand without warning.

"Oof! Lizzie!"

She giggles and presses a kiss onto the bridge of my nose. "I'm not sure how I feel about this whole power thing, or siren thing, but... well, here goes. I love you, Ivy. I love you for you. I love how you always try to look out for other people. I love how you color code everything around you. I love how you drowned my house in decorative pillows. I love how it takes you ten minutes to make your coffee in the morning, because you have to get the measurements of cinnamon and honey just right. But above all, I love waking up every morning to see your face, smiling at me because you know how much I loathe mornings."

I grin at her, my eyes tearing up at the edges. If this is what I think it is, she's saying yes. She's saying she's committed, that she wants to be with me for the high points and low points. She's saying it doesn't matter who or what I was or am. All that matters is who I am to her.

And she's saying she loves me. She loves me enough to trust me. She loves me enough to marry me.

She loves me.

"So..." She exhales steadily. "I guess you could say I'm saying yes. I'll marry you, Ivy."

I sit bolt upright and hug her, whispering in her ear.

"Technically we did this entirely wrong. Aren't people supposed to go on their knees?"

Lizzie snorts. "Sitting is close enough."

Looking at the joy on her face, and feeling it deep in my heart through my empath abilities, I know that at this moment, everything is enough. The boxes don't exist. My differences are inconsequential. All that matters is the brilliant woman in front of me, showering me with love even if she doesn't know it.

I pull the ring box out of my pocket and hand it over to her, before leaning my head on her shoulder, staring out at the sunset over the ocean.

Getting married might not necessarily be a happily ever after, but at this point, I think it's close enough.