[private] brought the dark to the light

[Gale]

Gale started under neon lights, then it all got dark i only know how to go too far He is frustrating her. Gale has realized this, but even his corrective efforts appear a failure as she scoffs and turns away. This is the longest conversation with someone else that he has had in years, and he thinks that there are few ways that it could be going any worse. She’s no longer looking at him, but instead out at the place where Loess had been. She has scales now, he realizes. Perhaps they’d appeared as progressively as the water that now laps at his chest? He hastily tries to recall exactly what he had said, but is distracted by stray thoughts about better avenues to get her to leave, and ways he might get her to leave him alone so he could figure out a plan. He gets lost in those thoughts and is pulled out only when she turns back to him and speaks, the movement one that he sees from the corner of his eye. Shoving away the rest of his thoughts, Gale reassures himself that at least they aren’t fighting. And then she mentions the wrath of her powers. Gale resigns himself to the consequences of his actions, and turns his blue gaze back to hers. It is then that she baits him, tilting her head so that the dawn light catches the edge of her face and turns her eye to molten gold. The sea mare knows what she is doing, which fascinates Gale. Is this a tactic, he wonders? An attempt to disarm him before even allowing him to answer her question? Now that she’s drawn his attention, Gale finds it hard to look away. He inspects each opalescent scale of Adria’s face, traces the slope of her straight nose, then allows his electric gaze to wander further along what parts of her back remain above the water, and he idly wonders if she can feel the lightning that follows his gaze. Is this the wrath of her powers, he wonders? Is this how the seahorses catch the eye of their prey before dragging them down? He’s never been the target of such a drowning before - too easily distracted, even from a pretty face. Should he focus now, he wonders? Should he concentrate on not allowing himself to be distracted so that she can drown him? But what if she’s not about to drown him? The confusion darkens his face but he does not turn away. He Looks elsewhere instead, to where the oil-black darkness stirs at the internal discord, his eyes never moving from her face. Gale does not understand why he has been granted such a long reprieve from his darkness, but the reminder of it is sudden and sobering. Will you fight me, the nereid asks? “Non, bèl.” Gale answers, his voice equally soft. It has been some time since he attempted the nereid’s speech, but nearly a decade of living beside them had made picking up a few words inevitable. Enough words, he hopes, to assure Adria that he is appreciative of her beauty, and that he knows what he is asking for when he speaks again. “But the abyss, I would like that.” There is the shortest of pauses, and then he adds, with a gentle dip of his head so that his lips touch the salt water: “Please.” @Adria