Page 37 of Rainse
He stopped immediately, turning to me, the sunlight catching the fine sheen of water still clinging to his greenskin. His eyes met mine, unreadable but patient, as if he’d been waiting for me to come running back all along.
I swallowed hard. “Have you eaten yet?”
His head tilted slightly. “No. I can't even remember when I last had some food. Why?”
“Because I haven’t either,” I said, surprised by how steady my voice sounded. “Well, nothing but a banana from the fruit basket in my room. And I thought… maybe we could fix that. Together.”
For a heartbeat, he just looked at me — silent, assessing, as though trying to decide if this was real. Then the corners of his mouth curved, and his entire face lit up. “You’re asking me to dinner.”
“Yes.” I folded my arms, mostly because I didn't know what to do with my hands. “It’s called a date. Humans do that sometimes when they’re trying to make sense of whatever this is. When they want to get to know each other further, on neutral ground, in a nice place.”
“I know what a date is,” he said, and there was a faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “I just didn’t think you’d want one with me.”
“I didn’t either,” I admitted. “And yet, here we are.”
That made him smile, and it was devastating. The kind of smile that felt like sunlight breaking through water.
“Then it would be my honour,” he said simply.
The ridiculous formality of it made me laugh — a small, unsteady sound that somehow grounded me. “Good. I saw a dining area near the main lodge when Elise showed me around. I’m guessing they serve more than fish?”
"They will make you whatever you want. By now the entire island will know that you almost drowned and then almost became shark food. You'll be the local celebrity and favourite source of gossip for a few sunpasses, before they move on to a new target. I recommend you milk it while you can."
I laughed. "I guess there's a lot of gossip on an island like this."
"You have no idea."
We fell into step together as we made our way up the beach, the silence between us comfortable this time. I was aware of him in that hyper-focused way that made everything else blur — his scent, the quiet rhythm of his breathing, the faint rustle of his greenskin as he moved.
When we reached the boardwalk, the air shifted again — cooler, carrying the faint aromas of spice and citrus from the kitchen. A handful of human and finfolk couples were scattered at the tables under wide canopies, the atmosphere relaxed, private. We gained a few curious glances, but they tried to pretend not to notice us.
A hostess — human, with a wide smile and beautifully braided black hair — greeted us with the polite warmth of someone trained to ignore the extraordinary. “Table for two?”
“Yes,” I said before Rainse could. “Somewhere quiet, if possible.”
She led us to a table near the edge of the terrace, overlooking the lagoon. The light was golden, the sky stretching wide and endless above the sea. I sat down, half afraid the spell would break once we were seated like normal people doing normal things. But it didn’t.
Rainse watched me across the table, his expression soft but intent. “This is your idea of an experiment, isn’t it?”
“Maybe.” I picked up the menu, mostly to have something to hold. “Observation through participation.”
“Then I’m honoured to be your subject,” he said.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” I replied dryly, but I couldn’t quite hide my smile.
The waitress appeared with two glasses of cold water, and I took a sip before glancing back at him. “I don’t know how this ends, Rainse. I don’t even know what happens next.”
He reached across the table, not touching me, just close enough for his fingers to rest on the wood between us. “Then let’s just start with dinner.”
"I can do that. When you eat here, do you usually choose human or finfolk food?"
"I like to mix it up. To be fair, most of the finfolk options have been humanised because of lack of ingredients. But if you're looking for a recommendation, the Tw'li fish soup is quite authentic."
"I think I've had enough fish for a while, but thank you. I feel like carbs. Lots of carbs."
He laughed softly, then his expression suddenly soured. "I'm sorry I didn't look after you properly while you were on the little island. I should have known that just fish and coconuts wasn't good enough. I should have-"
I put a finger to my lips. "What's done is done. Let's focus on the present rather than the past. As long as that in future, you only whisk me away to tropical islands if I explicitly ask for it."
