Page 21 of Nora's Kraken

“Hello,” he says, and his smile is clear in his voice, all wrapped up in that deep, warm accent of his. It sounds vaguely British, but layered with other places and times I can’t identify, something that’s entirely unique to this kraken.

“Hi,” I say nervously, tugging on my jacket.

Elias takes his time looking me up and down, and though I freeze for a moment under that inspection, it only lasts until I read the naked appreciation in his gaze. A few more of my nerves melt away, and a small, warm bloom of anticipation wells up in the bottom of my stomach.

“You look beautiful, Nora,” Elias says as he offers me his arm. “Shall we?”

I nod and tuck my hand into the crook of his elbow. There’s something endearing about the gesture, something old-fashioned and chivalrous that brings a small smile to my lips.

“Where are you taking me?” I ask him, too curious not to.

Elias gives my arm a squeeze. “It’s not far. And you agreed to let me surprise you.”

He’s got me there, and it’s only a few minutes later as he leads me from the street corner down a couple of blocks that we reach our destination.

“The aquarium?” I ask. “Is it still open this late?”

“Not usually,” he explains, reaching for the door to open it for me. “But I called in a favor.”

Of course he could call in a favor, but I’m not complaining as we step inside and a woman dressed in black slacks and a button-up is waiting to greet us.

“Hello Ms. Perry, Mr. Morgan,” she says warmly. “And welcome.”

“Denise is the aquarium’s director,” Elias explains. “I’ve been on the Board here for a few years and have worked closely with Denise on several conservation initiatives.”

Denise laughs warmly. “That’s certainly an understatement.”

What she means by that, I’m not exactly sure, but a bit of color rises on Elias’s cheeks and he clears his throat.

“Denise has been kind enough to allow us private use of the aquarium tonight.”

“My absolute pleasure,” Denise says. “And please take all the time you need. I’ll let the two of you explore.”

After she heads back into an office at the side of the lobby, I glance at Elias.

“Let me guess. By ‘working with’ Denise on conservation initiatives, does that mean you’ve donated a whole lot of money to those initiatives?”

The color on his handsome face deepens. “In simple terms, yes.” He falls silent for a few moments, glancing around the space. “Does it bother you, my wealth?”

I can’t help it, I snort. “No. It doesn’t. It’s just… a lot to take in, you know?”

He offers me his arm again. “I know. But luckily we have plenty of colorful fish to distract us tonight. You barely have to pay attention to me if you’d rather not.”

That doesn’t seem anywhere near possible given that I’m already having a hard time keeping my eyes off him, but I take Elias’s arm anyway and let him lead the way deeper into the building.

It turns out the fisharea nice distraction from any lingering nerves, and although we’re the only ones here, after a few minutes it becomes easy enough to pretend this is just a normal date.

Even though I’ve lived in Seattle for three years, I’ve never been here before, and find myself fascinated by the displays and by Elias’s running commentary. He tells me about not only the fish and crustaceans in the tanks around us, but the conservation programs aimed at preserving the diverse marine life in the Puget Sound and educating visitors and the community about the importance of that ecosystem.

I’m half taking in all the details, half just enjoying listening to him speak.

Elias is animated and passionate and earnest, a far cry from my first impression of him back at the Bureau. Still, there are moments where he stumbles over his words a bit, or seems a little uncertain if he should give me more space or keep his hand on my back, where it has a tendency to wander. In some ways, he seems almost as nervous as I am.

Which is… unexpectedly endearing. Seeing some of his nerves calms me down even more, helps me relax into the knowledge that all of this might be as strange and anxiety provoking for him as it is for me.

Watching him now, feeling and seeing the care he’s taking with me, a thought strikes me suddenly, and brings a little bubble of warmth up into the center of my chest.

He’s trying. Trying to make me comfortable, maybe trying to tamp down whatever kraken part of himself already considers me his.

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