Chapter Text
Sylvia squinted as the sunlight scattered across the waves, the gleam making the ocean look like a vault of treasure spilled open. She waded in with careful steps, each ripple a cool slip climbing her legs. Finn was farther out, leaning back like the tide had propped him there. His grin, sly and expectant, demanded she close the distance. She flicked the water idly with her hands, wavelets fanning out like a cautious declaration.
“You’re stalling, Minnow,” he teased, raking a hand through his wet hair. Water trickled down the sharp lines of his face, sunlight catching on his teeth. Sylvia rolled her eyes, but her gaze snagged briefly on the shimmer along his jaw before she shook it off. “Afraid you’ll get used to having fun?”
“Hey, I’ve been having plenty of fun since the competition’s over.” Sylvia laughed, though it turned into a light shiver as the chill of the tide climbed past her hips. “I’m just easing in! This is a gradual process.”
A faint ripple stirred against Sylvia’s stomach and she glanced down, catching the faint blur of Finn’s tail slicing through the water before it vanished.
“Gradual, huh? Sounds like torture. I got a better idea.”
“What’s that?” she asked, narrowing her eyes, already suspicious.
Water exploded in sparkling arcs as Finn lunged. Sylvia yelped and tried to retreat, but she didn’t get far before his hands closed firmly around her waist. Her splash of protest turned into startled laughter as he lifted her in one seamless motion, her feet skimming the waves like the tide itself had swept her up.
“Finn!” she cried, though her laughter betrayed her. She grabbed his arms instinctively, her hands finding no purchase against his slick skin. “This is not helping!”
“Sure it is,” he said, his voice light as he held her aloft like a prize. The horizon tilted in her vision, and the rush of exhilaration made her breath come faster. “Now, admit you’re having fun, and maybe I’ll let you down.”
“Alright, fine! I’m having fun!” Sylvia gasped between laughs, kicking at the air.
“Hm, not bad, but try soundin’ less like a hostage,” he said, his grin now outright devilish.
“I’m—” Sylvia started, but the words turned into a shriek as Finn let her drop. The ocean closed around her in a rush, a fleeting shock against her skin. She surfaced quickly, sputtering and laughing, water dripping from her hair.
“See?” Finn said, his voice deep with satisfaction. “Sometimes you just gotta dive in headfirst.”
“You’re impossible,” Sylvia managed, flicking water at him. Her breathless grin softened the words.
“And you’re stuck with me,” he replied, dodging her splash easily. His tail flicked in a counterattack, sending a wave her way. “Lucky you.”
Sylvia sank until the water hugged her shoulders, her smile shifting into a more playful curve. “Oh, I’m not sure who’s luckier here.”
Finn’s grin softened, his teasing edged by something warmer. “Guess we’ll call it a tie.”
“No ties,” Sylvia said with mock firmness. “I play to win.”
Finn’s chuckle reverberated low in his chest. He dove underwater without warning, leaving barely a ripple behind. Sylvia blinked and glanced around, trying to anticipate where he would pop up. When something brushed her ankle, she yelped, jerking her foot back.
He broke the surface a fair distance away, laughing. “Relax, Minnow. Just me.”
Sylvia narrowed her eyes, swimming closer. “You’re lucky I didn’t kick you. I thought something bit me!”
“That was the idea,” Finn said, his grin widening. “But hey, got your heart racing, didn’t it?”
“Oh, very clever,” she said, paddling until she was almost within arm’s reach. “We’ll see how clever you feel when I get my revenge.”
He eyed her approach, his gaze sparkling with mischief. “Careful, Minnow. You’re swimmin’ into dangerous waters.”
“Pfft, you’re all talk.” Sylvia’s smirk goaded him on.
Finn leaned in slightly, his voice dropping low. “You pokin’ the big fish?”
“I think I’m handling myself just fine,” she said breezily, though her heartbeat quickened as her fingers settled on his shoulders.
Finn’s grin widened, his hands steadying her as the water lapped around them. “Oh, yeah? Then why’re you holding on so tight?”
Before she could reply, his lips met hers. The rhythm of the waves faded as her focus narrowed to the warmth of his kiss. His hand slid to the back of her neck, bracing her, and she instinctively pushed closer, the coolness of the water sharp against the heat blooming between them.
When Finn shifted, she felt the change—his arm wrapping tightly around her waist, pulling her down, tipping them both beneath the surface. She inhaled deeply through her nose and shut her eyes as the water enveloped them both.
Her pulse quickened, not only from the sudden plunge but from the closeness, the sensation of their bodies suspended in that weightless space. As the muffling darkness of the water surrounded them, every touch seemed magnified. The silence beneath the waves was sharp and intimate, the current pressing them together.
Time stretched, the embrace lingering, and when her lungs burned for air, Finn lifted her back to the surface. She broke through with a gasp, laughter spilling out of her as water trickled down her face. Finn followed a moment later, his grin wide and unrepentant.
“Unexpected,” she said, breathless, still shaking off the rush.
Finn smirked, slicking his hair back with one hand. “Unexpected, huh? Should I do it again? Y’know, so it’s less of a shock?”
Sylvia flicked water at him, though her smile persisted. The playful momentum ebbed into something quieter, the gentle sound of the waves filling the space between them. Sylvia floated closer, letting her arms rest against the water’s surface. Finn’s hands lingered at her waist, his touch light but sure.
“You really enjoy throwing me off balance, don’t you?” she said.
Finn tilted his head, the corner of his mouth tugging up in a wry smile. “Nah. I just like seein’ how you bounce back.”
Her lips quirked at his answer, but she didn’t press. The way he said it, so matter-of-fact, settled in her core.
The ocean’s rhythm steadied, matching her breath as she floated closer. Sylvia met his gaze, her smile softening. There was no need for teasing or banter—just the quiet assurance that they both felt the same pull. The water cradled them, but it was the certainty of his touch that anchored her most.
—
Sylvia hesitated, the lantern light catching on the wine bottle cradled in her arms. The polished wood of the door reflected her faint silhouette, and her fingers lingered just shy of knocking. Then, with a quick breath, she rapped her knuckles twice against the grain.
The door creaked open almost immediately, as if Finn had been lying in wait on the other side. He leaned one shoulder against the frame, his gaze sweeping her in a way that sent warmth to her cheeks.
“Well, look who decided to grace my humble abode,” he said, his grin curling slow and sharp as he stepped aside to let her in.
“Humble?” Sylvia placed a hand on her hip, taking in the space. The apartment was a definite upgrade. A soft glow bathed the space, throwing the artful fishing net on the far wall into a web of shifting shadows. She brushed her fingers along a shelf lined with polished geodes, their jagged surfaces catching the light. The faint brine in the air tickled her nose, a subtle reminder of the sea.
She adjusted the bottle in her hands and turned to him with a grin. “Not bad. You might even fool someone into thinking you have taste.”
He snorted, closing the door behind her. “I’ve always had taste, Minnow. Just needed a reset after you humbled me.” But there was gratification in his voice as he looked around the space, his hand running over the back of the couch.
Her grin faltered, her gaze drifting back to the room. The quiet pressed gently against her, unfamiliar yet oddly comforting. She rubbed her thumb along the neck of the wine bottle, the stillness drawing a sharp contrast to the constant hum of customers and cauldrons at the shop.
Sylvia stepped closer, nudging him lightly with her elbow. “A reset, huh? That’s what you call it when half of Rafta is raving over your seminar series?”
His grin widened, a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes. “Hey, can’t help it if I’m good at what I do.”
“Seriously, though. You deserve the good things coming to you.”
For a moment, his smirk softened, and he looked at her with gratitude. Even after the moment passed, it seemed to ripple through the room before he straightened and clapped his hands together. “So, are we drinkin’ that wine of yours, or are you gonna just admire my good taste all night?”
Sylvia huffed a laugh, sliding the bottle across the counter toward him. “Better get started before your ego gets so big it pushes me right out the door.”
She leaned against the counter as Finn rummaged through a cabinet, muttering about the delicate nature of wine glasses. She watched him with an amused smile, the faint glow of the room’s soft lighting catching on the sharp angles of his jaw and the subtle ripple of muscle beneath his rolled-up sleeves.
“Easy there,” she teased, as he set two glasses firmly down on the table. “You might be new to this whole ‘fancy’ thing, but glass breaks.”
Finn shot her a look, his grin lazy and sharp. “Fancy?” he echoed, taking the wine bottle from her hands. His fingers brushed against hers for just a moment before he casually uncorked the bottle with his teeth.
“Very nice,” Sylvia said dryly. Her fingers trailed absently along the countertop as Finn filled their glasses, her gaze slipping to the neat stack of books on the shelf. The room felt... deliberate. Each detail—every polished geode and carefully arranged card in his collection—hinted at something she couldn’t quite name. A weight settled low in her chest, warm and comfortable, as her thoughts lingered on how much had shifted between them since their first meeting.
He slid her a glass and leaned one hip against the counter, his broad frame relaxed but his eyes gleaming with mischief. “I’m plenty sophisticated, Minnow,” he said, taking a sip.
Sylvia raised her glass, studying him over the rim as she took a slow sip herself. “I’ll believe it when I see it,” she said, savoring the bold flavor of the wine as it spread across her tongue.
Finn’s smirk deepened, and he swirled the wine in his glass with surprising finesse. “Oh, come on. This?” He clinked his glass against hers. “This is the very picture of class.”
They both took another sip, the silence between them now charged. The wine was rich, smooth, but the way Finn looked at her—intent, as though the entire world had shrunk down to this moment—made her heart skip.
Sylvia closed the distance between them in an unhurried motion. Her lips pressed softly to his, the faint taste of wine mingling with the salt of his skin. He matched her pace, constant and sure. Sylvia smiled against his lips, her hand curling lightly on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm. Finn pulled back just enough to catch her gaze, his grin returning.
“Well,” he said, his tone dipping low, “if this is how you celebrate, you can come over anytime.”
Sylvia chuckled, her fingers trailing to the back of his neck as she drew him back down. Her teeth grazed his bottom lip lightly before she pulled away.
His sharp intake of breath was of half surprise, half amusement. “Careful, Minnow,” he said, his voice rougher. “Throwin’ teeth into the mix? Risky business.”
Sylvia tilted her head with mock innocence, though the glint in her eyes betrayed her. “You’re not going soft on me now, are you?”
He chuckled, low and dark, before flashing a grin that revealed the razor edges of his smile. “Me? Nah. Just didn’t peg you as quite that daring.” He leaned in again, his lips brushing against her ear as he added, “I wouldn’t test your luck. My bite’s a little sharper than yours.”
Sylvia didn’t flinch. “But I like flirting with danger.” Her voice was even, but her pulse raced beneath her skin.
Finn tilted his head, studying her with that keen, appraising expression he wore when she surprised him. Then his hand, coarse but gentle, slid up her arm to rest against her cheek. He leaned in close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off him.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he murmured before his lips captured hers again.
His teeth grazed her lip, a hint of the sharpness he’d flaunted. She held her ground, pressing closer, her fingers tightening in his hair as if daring him to back down.
The gentle scrape of his teeth below her ear sent a jolt down her spine, and she tilted her head, giving him better access as he trailed his lips along the line of her throat. One hand slid up the curve of her back and anchored her against him. The deliberate strength in his grip sent a rush through her. Her pulse fluttered beneath his touch, a soft gasp escaping her when he nipped at her collarbone; not hard enough to break skin, but enough to tease the possibility.
Sylvia’s breathy laugh was short-lived, the sound swallowed when his mouth found hers again. His movements slowed, devoting a focus to her that made her pulse quicken. Her teeth grazed his lower lip, another playful bite in retaliation, and his answering chuckle was deep. The vibration sent a wave of heat curling low through her.
Finn pulled back just enough for her to catch her breath, his lips brushing against hers when he spoke. “You don’t scare so easy anymore, do you?”
The teasing edge in his voice remained, though it was blunted by something fonder.
Sylvia’s nose crinkled, her expression almost dismissive, though her lips still curved faintly. “Not when you’d never actually hurt me.”
Finn tipped his head slightly, the faintest flicker of mischief still sparking in his sharp gaze, though the rest of him stilled. “So, you’ve got me all figured out, huh?”
The words came lightly, but the pause that followed felt deliberate. His eyes searched hers, unguarded in a way that made Sylvia falter. A question hovered in the space between them, unspoken yet clear in his hesitation: about what she saw in him, what had shifted, and what might never change. Her hands clasped behind his neck.
“Yeah,” she said, the gravity of her answer settling between them. “I do.”
The intensity of the affection in his gaze was almost daunting. “Good.”
For a while, they stayed like that, their breaths a gentle, syncopated rhythm against the stillness. Sylvia adjusted slightly, bringing her fingertips down to brush the weave of Finn’s shirt, the fabric warmed from his skin. His hand rested against her back, his thumb tracing slow, absent circles over the material of her tunic. The quiet hum of his presence wrapped around her, steady and certain, a counterpoint to the restless murmur of the wind outside.
The night stretched on, the world beyond the walls receding into insignificance. Neither seemed in any hurry to break the spell, content to linger in the space they’d carved out for each other.