Between Sea And Sky

Chapter Eight: A Mind Unmoored (Eva's Pov)

I locked the windows. Twice.

The storm had passed, but I couldn’t shake the sound of it. The waves crashing hard and fast like they were alive, like they were angry with me. The sea had always been a constant in my life, a backdrop to every summer, every childhood memory. But tonight it felt like an enemy.

And worse, I knew why.

I saw something.

The memory looped behind my eyes, relentless. That flash of scales shimmering beneath the foam. The haunting glow that wrapped around him like liquid fire. And those eyes otherworldly, magnetic, terrifyingly real. I hadn’t imagined it. I couldn’t have. But even as I told myself that, my chest tightened with doubt.

You’re losing it, Eva. Too many deadlines, too little sleep.

But I wasn’t. Not this time.

The phone in my hand was slippery from sweat. I hovered over my contacts for a full minute before finally pressing dial. The ringing pulsed in my ear until a groggy voice answered.

“Eva? It’s almost midnight. What’s wrong?”

“Claire,” I breathed, gripping the phone tighter, “can you… can you come over?”

There was a pause. “Are you okay?”

“No.” My voice cracked. “I don’t think I am.”

I hated admitting that. I was the one who chased stories no one else would touch, the girl who ran toward danger if it meant uncovering the truth. But now, sitting in my dark apartment with the smell of salt still clinging to my skin, I felt hollowed out. Frayed.

Claire sighed softly on the other end. “I’ll grab my keys. Give me fifteen.”

When the line went dead, I sank into the couch, pressing the phone to my chest. My apartment was too quiet. Even with the city hum outside, I swore I could hear it.. I mean the whisper of waves, the pull of the tide. It was ridiculous. Yes it was. Irrational. But it crawled under my skin, making my nerves itch.

My mind circled back, unbidden, to the way he had looked at me. Not a hallucination. Not a trick of the water. He had looked back. Eyes meeting mine, startled, almost vulnerable. That wasn’t the face of a phantom. That was the face of someone real.

And then the sea had tried to tear me away from him.

The hairs on my arms prickled. I rubbed them down, muttering, “Get a grip, Eva.” But the words felt hollow.

I dragged out my notebook from my bag, the one I reserved for instinct stories the ones my editors dismissed but I followed anyway. My pen hovered over the first page.

Subject: The Man in the Water.

I wrote the words with a trembling hand. Underlined them twice.

But instead of steadying me, the act made my chest ache. Because what was I doing? Journalists dealt in facts, in proof. And all I had was a pair of glowing eyes and a voice in my head whispering that maybe the ocean hated me now.

By the time Claire arrived, I had poured myself a third glass of wine I didn’t even like. She took one look at me and frowned. “You’re pale. What happened?”

I opened my mouth. Closed it. Then the truth tumbled out. “I saw something. Someone. In the water.”

Claire raised a brow. “Like… a swimmer?”

“No.” My laugh cracked, too sharp. “Not a swimmer. Not human either. I know how it sounds, but I swear, Claire, I’m not making this up.”

Her silence was gentle but heavy.

I pressed my palms to my temples, fighting the tears that burned there. “God, maybe I am losing it. Maybe it’s just stress and my brain finally snapped. But it felt real. Too real. And when I saw him, the whole sea” I stopped myself, realizing how insane it would sound.

“The whole sea what?”

“It changed. Like it was alive. Like it wanted to warn me away.”

Claire sat beside me, placing a hand on mine. “Eva, you’ve been working yourself into the ground. Maybe your mind’s just… playing tricks. don't you think?”

But her comfort didn’t reach me. Because even as she spoke, the floor trembled faintly beneath my feet like the faint roll of waves beneath the earth. I froze, pulse quickening.

Claire didn’t feel it. She just kept talking, soothing, trying to anchor me. But I couldn’t shake the sense that the sea itself was listening.

And worse maybe.. whispering back.