“Hm . . .” Lie pretends to ponder, eyes flashing mischievously. “I quite like shadow-weaver already, but I’d love to hear what you come up with.” His heartbeat slows as the mermaid steps closer, wondering just how much of himself he’s willing to give up. Some instinctual, sick part of him wants to lie—knows to lie. To hide himself.
To be someone different.
Litotes knows a better man, knows plenty of better men. He knows every version of himself other than this one is a better man; but this is the snake-oil salesman his father taught him to be, this Litotes. He hawks a handsome face, a gentlemanly tip of his hat, an alluring swagger.
But he is a liar, and he always has been. He just thought maybe, maybe he learned what it is to be candid. No, he only learned how to be more cunning. How to fold a card into his sleeve just to strengthen his hand right when he needs it.
What is it that pessimists often say? People never change.
So, that poker face of his grins lazily, smugly, dastardly. It gives nothing of the heart within, the pride and the pain and the life he has lived. He becomes a villain as a flash of a smile shines beneath his tipped hat, hands tucked up against his belt, back pressed languidly against a pole. A hero, just in appearance.
“Lie,” he finally says.
The shadow around Adriana’s leg spirals further up, tugging gently, beckoning.
“Can I give you a reason to get out of the water?”
as it softly glides across your back
and i hope you leave right before the sun comes up
so i can watch it alone
