'A Gift From The Sea' by Sarah Jessen

 

He was far out at sea, too far to be detected by anyone on land.

He smelt her before he was able to detect her by sight, her scent was very distinctive, a mix of rosemary and vanilla, it's what attracted him to her in the first place.  It had been a few moons since he'd last seen her, she looked different, changed. The difference was subtle, but it was a change nonetheless. Her wild hair appeared thicker than before, she was flushed, and he noticed the swell of her breasts and stomach. She looked upset, forlorn. Like she was searching for something but no idea what.

He turned away and allowed the tide to pull him further out. Without a backward glance, he dove into the shoals of shimmering fish.

It had been midsummer, he and some others had come ashore, the moon was full and impossibility bright, the air was hot and heavy. He found her at the fire pit, the glow of the embers made her look ethereal. She looked up and smiled in recognition, without the need for words, he took her hand and for the rest of the night and into the morning, their two bodies contorted and like the waves, crashed together in unison.

The first time, he had watched her dipping her delicate toes in the foam from afar. Her eyes were closed, her head was tossed back, exposing a long neck. He was draped over a large rock, drunk on a rare October sun. The barnacles dug deep into his skin, a little uncomfortable but it was the perfect spot for watching her.

He couldn't wait any longer, shedding his selkie skin, he made towards her.