Into the deep we go: Falling for you is so wrong

This is the end..."she sighed as she looked up into the vastness of the night sky. The full moon cast a pale vision in her sorrow-filled eyes. As she took her first step, barefoot onto the beach, the sand gave in slightly where her weight pressed onto the surface. She felt the tiny granules of sand compress under her, and let out a breath so guttural it could decimate the violent rolling waves, charged with pain but she pressed on, determined to face the tumultuous waters. But as she approached the shoreline, a voice in her head whispered, "You don't have to do this. You can turn back and pretend everything is okay." She shook her head, trying to silence the voice, but it only grew louder. Her feet sank into the wet sand, her toes curling as she felt the cold, murky water lapping at her ankles. Suddenly, the voice was louder and more persistent, urging her to give up and run away. She hesitated, her heart torn between her desire to confront her fears and the temptation to flee. Her mind was a battlefield, the voice of doubt and fear warring with her determination and bravery. She struggled to move forward, her feet feeling heavy as if they were anchored to the ground. Just as she was about to turn back, a memory flashed through her mind. A memory she couldn't quite place, a memory of fire and conquering, screaming at her to face her fears head-on, not turn and run like a coward. "The only way to conquer your fears is to confront them," some disembodied voice said into the night-kissed air around her. And with that memory, a surge of determination coursed through her body, giving her the strength to take another step forward. Only with each step, the voice grew louder and more insistent, reminding her of all the things that could go wrong, of all the things that had indeed gone to s**t. She could almost feel the water pulling her in, the waves crashing over her, drowning her in her own fears. Her heart sparked into a blind panic as would be expected from human nature, but she sighed, drawing the last bit of her strength forward to see this through. Torn between her desire to prove herself and her fear of failure, she finally reached the edge of the water. She stood there, the waves splashing against her ankles, the voice in her head screaming louder and louder, this time for her to run. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and made a choice. A choice that went against everything she used to believe in but everything that had been then, now nothing more than a mere glimmer of a past life. So with that being that, she waded into the dark ocean depths. As she took her first step, barefoot onto the beach, the sand gave in slightly where her weight pressed onto the surface. She felt the tiny granules of sand compress under her, and let out a breath so full of defeat, it could decimate the violent rolling waves, charged with pain but pressed on forward, closer to the tumbling water. Just as she felt the texture of the ground shifting from harsh to wet and muddy, she stopped and stared into the dark horizon with a forlorn expression etched onto her ethereal features. She waited for a while. From the outside perspective, it would probably seem like a dream, or in her case, a nightmare. A ghostly figure on a secluded beach during high tide, barefoot and nothing but a gossamer white dress drenched at the hem, ice white hair flowing dangerously in the wind, just standing, motionless. But in her mind, she knew exactly what she was waiting for. "I need some sleep" by the eels, abruptly cut her thoughts in two when it suddenly played from within her dress pocket. The melody filled the night, and she responded accordingly, pulled out her phone, and blinked at the screen. "Midnight" she breathed out, her voice hoarse from the cold wintery air, for a couple of seconds she sang along in a melancholy whisper. "I need some sleep It can't go on like this. I tried counting sheep. But there's one I always miss Everyone says I'm getting down too low Everyone says you just gotta let it go" Once known for her dramatic flair, she was like a blazing inferno, consuming everything in her wake. But now, she was reduced to a mere shell of her former self. Devoid of humanity, she was a creature stripped of all that once made her real. And now, In this moment of despair, as she faced the end of her life, she found herself compelled to craft an atmosphere solely for her own benefit. Clinging to the memories that she still retained, memories of the past, if only for a fleeting moment, before they dissolved into nothingness. Turning off that incessant alarm, she limply let her phone slip from her grasp and plunge into the water below. It wasn't an act of anger or spite, but rather a gesture of defeat. The device sinking into the depths held more meaning than any other action she had taken in her life. She was broken, and it was evident. The beach lay behind her, a secluded paradise stretching 200 meters from end to end. At one side, a towering cliff curved around, enclosing the sandy shore in a protective embrace. The only other presence in this desolate landscape was a solitary house, standing as a silent witness to her despair. The stunning wooden beach house stood proudly with its massive, sparkling windows, exuding an air of grandeur. Its exceptional wood deck offered a breathtaking view of the ocean, reminiscent of a charming cottage nestled in the woods, adorned with blooming flowers and lush greenery. While its beauty was undeniable, there was a sense of familiarity that lingered in the depths of her mind. As she wandered aimlessly deeper into the ocean, a feeling of deja vu struck her. It was as if she had been drawn to this spot by some unseen force, leading her to claim it as the setting for her burial ceremony. The mysterious connection between her and this place added an eerie and mystical element to the scene, shrouding the moment in a veil of intrigue and uncertainty. Meanwhile, up at the beach house, commotion ensued. ☾ "No, I don't want to go to bed yet!" a small voice cried out in frantic protest. "Lucy, come here right now!" a raspy male voice bellowed, as a young girl narrowly escaped his grasp and leaped from one couch to the next. The energetic girl let out a mischievous giggle as the man tumbled over the couch in an effort to calm her down. Hyper and sharp she outmaneuvered him expertly. It was a night like any other as of late, filled with laughter and playful antics. She was determined to avoid him, darting around the room with a childlike glint in her eye. But this time, she seemed to have an endless supply of energy. With quick reflexes, she managed to outsmart him a few more times before he finally caught her near the glass sliding door. He scooped her up, tickling her until glittering tears filled her massive brown eyes. "I'm gonna pee!" she exclaimed between fits of laughter, her eyes squeezed shut in protest. "Only if you promise to go to bed, will I yield," he voiced, pausing for dramatic effect. "Okay, I promise, I promise" She was still giggling in between every breath, reluctantly giving in. She released a huff as he ceased his efforts. She rose from the floor and pivoted towards the glass door, pressing her delicate hand against the cool surface. Her wide smile faded into a thin line as her eyes locked onto the vast expanse of the ocean. "Why is that woman going for a swim in her pretty dress? You said we aren't allowed down there at night" He halted abruptly, stopping from drawing the curtains closed and following Lucy's gaze. "What are you talking abou..." A shiver ran down his spine as he spotted her - a young woman wading into the ocean, the water reaching her knees. He knew instinctively that this was no late-night swim. With a sense of urgency, he turned to Lucy, his gaze unwavering and determined. "No matter what happens, YOU DO NOT LEAVE THIS HOUSE, understood?" She could tell by the stern tone of his voice that he wasn't joking, and despite her childlike curiosity, she promised that she would stay put. With her confirmation, he flung open the glass door and ripped into the freezing night. He firmly closed the door behind him, emphasizing that Lucy was not to leave the living room area. Frantically, he raced towards the water, which was inching dangerously closer to the girl's throat. Ignoring the biting cold of the winter air and water, he dashed across the sand barefoot, clad only in wooly pajama pants, determined to reach her in time. His lungs burned as the cold night nipped at his throat with each intake of breath. ☾ She was now only anchored by her feet, barely touching the ocean floor. The relentless tide threatened to engulf her, dragging her under in a matter of moments. Water filled her lungs, stinging with each breath. Teetering on the edge of consciousness, her survival instincts waged war against her determination to give in, desperately clutching onto the dwindling supply of air. As the darkness crept closer, she found herself strangely welcoming its embrace, as the harsh reality of her situation began to slip away. She could sense the impending danger looming, ready to decimate her with its merciless grip. With heavy eyelids, she began to count down, preparing to surrender to the inevitable. But just as she reached the brink, she was unexpectedly yanked back from the precipice of oblivion, pulled in the opposite direction towards the shore. A warm, rough hand gripped her icy skin, sending a surge of life coursing through her veins, awakening her senses once more. It sent tendrils of life to erupt throughout her entire being. ☾ He didn't believe he would reach her in time, but through a combination of sheer luck and his exceptional swimming abilities, he managed to grasp her waist just as she was on the brink of being swallowed by the relentless ocean. The waves seemed to echo with a haunting rage as he pulled her away, as if they were particularly malevolent that night. As if they craved her very essence to be devoured by the unfathomable expanse. The waves even seemed to groan with an otherworldly fury as he took her from them, like they were starving for her soul to be consumed, to become a part of the abysmal oceanic depths. ☾ She gasped for air, her body convulsing as she crashed onto the sandy shore. Water gushed from her lungs, but her mind was clouded and her thoughts scrambled. The world spun around her as though some unseen force had seized control of her very being. Every fiber of her was rigid and throbbing with agony. Her chest burned with each violent cough, expelling the salty water that had nearly drowned her. Her eyes blazed with a fierce intensity, so searing that she could barely stand to open them for more than a fleeting instant. In that harrowing moment, she was consumed by a whirlwind of pain and confusion, struggling to make sense of the chaos that enveloped her. The battle for survival raged on, as she fought to regain control of her battered body and shattered mind. ☾ He lay sprawled out on the wet sand, the contrasted now gentle push and pull of the water reaching his waist, washing over him. Straining to turn his head, he saw her retching on all fours beside him. Her hair surrounded her face, sticking in some places and hanging loosely in others. The water-soaked dress she wore revealed too much of her body, but he didn't dare look away. As she tucked a large piece of hair behind her head, the moonlight illuminated her face. Her features struck him like a gust of wind, otherworldly and captivating. Her plump, though blue lips and strained panicked eyes emitted a strange glow that drew him in closer. Her delicate fingers dug into the soft white sand as her chest heaved. Despite her extremely pale, cold skin, it glowed fiercely in the moonlight. He pondered whether or not he was hallucinating from the cold. But suddenly he was knocked out of his admiration by the memory of how she came to be there, dripping wet and gagging on ocean water. He pulled himself forward and walked with exhaustion up to her crouching form. The moment he came within a few feet of her, a strange fire had erupted within him, a dark pull of something that would've made lesser men run the other way. He did not know why he himself chose to stand his ground when every instinct screamed at him to flee. "Are you okay?" he managed through his trembling, asking with genuine out-of-breath concern. She coughed for a couple more seconds before slowly lifting her head and struggling onto her feet. She swayed like a drunken fool, but even that captivated him. Instead of fear lingering in her fox-shaped eyes, only silver fire manifested. She pinned him with her gaze, looking him dead in the eyes, and staggered closer. The proximity was laced with a mix of unbridled fear and uncontrolled attraction towards her. With an infuriated mask coiled with hatred on her unfairly goddess-like face, she shoved him with pure aggression back onto the sand. It came so unexpectedly that he lost his footing and struck the sand with a loud plop where the soggy earth made contact with his behind. "What in the f**k, do you think you're playing at?" The woman seethed, her voice a sharp blade slicing through the tense air. Her eyes blazed with fury, each word dripping with a venomous rage that seemed to ignite the very atmosphere around them. Perplexed, he stared up at her, still entranced by her abnormal features. It was like he was in a trance and needed to snap himself out of it immediately. "I do recall preventing your untimely demise, although it seems now that I may have erred in my judgment," he quipped, a touch of sarcasm lacing his words. "No f*****g s**t, smart-ass," she interrupted, " do you honestly think I needed saving if I was here in the first place?" Her body was rigid and tense with the rage that coiled off her like smoke from a pyre, and he pondered her words hard for a second. "I understand this might be an unpopular opinion given the circumstances, but truthfully, I have to admit - deep down, I think you did," he confessed, a knowing glint in his eyes hinting at a revelation that she had not considered. She wanted to protest, but somehow his response stuck something deep within her. So she made no argument, only huffed out an inaudible response. "Why are you out here anyways?" He inquired, rising from the sandy ground and attempting to rid himself of the grains that clung to him like a coat of powdered sugar. Her gaze bore into him, a silent rebuke for his audacity in questioning her motives. "I know what you were here to do, but why?" She remained silent, a mere shake of her head accompanied by a self-embrace revealing the chill that had settled deep within her being.. "Oh gods you must be frozen, please, come up to my house. The biting cold can be treacherous, especially for someone in your condition. Hypothermia is a formidable threat," he spoke with calm, his voice laced with genuine concern as he reached out his weathered hand towards her. She stood frozen for a moment, conflicting emotions warring behind her eyes as she deliberated the invitation against her lingering suspicions. The warm light spilling from the windows whispered promises of comfort and security, tugging at her wavering determination. After a tense internal battle, she relented to the allure of refuge, releasing some of her reservations as she trailed after him toward the beckoning glow of the house. "Okay," she managed to utter, her voice now a mere tremor of its former fiery self. As she tentatively clasped his hand, a shiver ran down his spine at the ice-cold touch that greeted him. The stark contrast between her frigid skin and the chill in the air was jarring, causing him to involuntarily recoil for a moment. Together, they slowly treaded back along the sandy shore towards the house. However, as the numbing cold seeped deeper into her, a wave of dizziness engulfed her senses, threatening to plunge her into unconsciousness at any moment. As she stumbled, a jolt of fear raced through her veins, her heart pounding in her chest. Just as she teetered on the edge of falling, his firm grip wrapped around her, drawing her near. Their figures intertwined tightly as they advanced towards the stairway to the illuminated deck under the moon's glow, a palpable electricity crackling in the air with every stride. Struggling, she finally reached the deck. Rushing past the small girl, the man hurried into the house and returned with towels and dry clothes for both of them. "Come inside and dry off," she stood motionless on the deck, her gaze fixed on the boundary between icy peril and inviting sanctuary. Without a blink, he wrapped a towel around her shivering form, his touch bringing a gradual warmth that chased away the chill of near death. Guiding her into the cozy haven of the house, she surrendered to his ministrations, feeling the friction of the towel against her skin ignite a tingling sensation that dispelled the cold clinging to her. As he dried her off, a subtle air of weariness clung to her but she allowed him to continue and pushed her lingering reservations aside. "You need to get out of those clothes, here, there's a bathroom, down the hall, go change now", her head snapped at his demanding tone, his voice cleaved through the silence like a velvet blade, immediately seizing her attention. Despite her resistance to his authoritative manner, there was an inexplicable pull towards the words that she couldn't ignore. Turning to face him, she found herself aggravated but captivated by his unwavering confidence. Without a word, she accepted the clothes he offered, each step down the seemingly unending corridor serving as a poignant reminder of her vulnerable position. With every stride, the discomfort heightened; her bare soles were now tender from minuscule cuts that peppered them, she still squared her shoulders and walked with as much grace as she could muster, with agony at every heartbeat. Her strides mirrored the fiery defiance in her eyes as she reluctantly complied Upon entering the bathroom, she swiftly shut the door, leaving the man to realize that the 6-year-old had been a silent observer. Sensing her presence, he pivoted towards her. "Are you alright, sweetheart?" he asked tenderly, lowering himself to her eye level. "Yep," she chirped, displaying a resilience that required no further elaboration; she instinctively grasped the nuances of discretion. Making a mental note to address the incident later, he gently planted a kiss on her forehead before straightening up. "I'll quickly change out of these clothes. If she comes out, cover her with a blanket and let her settle on the sofa, alright?" Lucy nodded in comprehension as he hurried upstairs, eager to shed his drenched nightwear. ☾ The clothes he handed her screamed femininity, with dusty pink pastel hues that whispered of grace and simple elegance. As she inspected them, her eyebrows arched in surprise. She recalled the sparse interior of the house, noting the absence of any overt signs of a woman's presence. Speculating that his wife must be temporarily absent, she couldn't help but wonder if this mysterious woman would approve of a stranger donning her attire. The dusty pink long-sleeved shirt delicately embraced her figure, tracing the gentle contours of her body with a subtle grace. Its hue evoked the muted elegance of faded rose petals in the last light of dusk. Paired with an oversized jumper in a matching soft tone, it cocooned her in a soothing warmth. Beneath the jumper, the coordinating shorts added a hint of understated harmony to the ensemble. To ward off the chill lingering in the air, she slid on plush knee-high socks made of wool that lovingly hugged her legs, offering a sense of comfort and security. Despite the physical embrace of her clothing, a surge of guilt and shame washed over her, saturating her very essence with a burdensome heaviness. Avoiding any reflective surface as if it held untold horrors, she turned away from the mirror and headed towards the door. The mere thought of facing her own reflection filled her with dread; she recoiled from the notion of seeing what she perceived as failure staring back at her. Stepping out of the immaculate bathroom, she scanned the room with a quickened pulse, but he was conspicuously absent. The only presence in the room was a young girl perched on an exquisitely plush sofa that had eluded her notice earlier, clutching a cozy blanket. Upon noticing her, she approached with cautious steps, her gaze darting around as she ran her fingers through her damp hair. As Lucy caught sight of her, she rose and extended the blanket to the unfamiliar visitor. "Thank you," came the simple reply as she accepted the offering and settled onto the seat. "I saw you going into the water," the girl voiced tentatively, breaking the silence when met with no immediate response. "What's your name? Mine is Lucy" The woman's face became a bit more alive, color seeped back into the woman's cheeks, a rosy hue blooming across her skin like a delicate watercolor painting coming to life. Her eyes, once dull and distant, sparked with newfound awareness as she slowly emerged from the hazy fog of her thoughts. With a subtle yet deliberate movement, she straightened her posture, a silent signal of her return to the present moment. It was as though she had been underwater this whole time, holding her breath, and finally surfaced to inhale deeply, filling her lungs with the rich tapestry of warmth around her. She bared her teeth in a fake smile, a twisted imitation of warmth. "They call me Lilith," she forced out through gritted teeth. Lucy's face contorted at her name, but she tentatively extended her hand. Lilith took it with a delicate grip and greeted her, the smile never leaving her face. "Nice to meet you, Lucy," she said sweetly. As she pulled the blanket tightly around her, the man descended the stairs, now clad in dry clothes that covered his muscular form. Lilith seethed with annoyance at this fact, cursing inwardly. But as she finally looked at him for the first time, she couldn't deny that he was devastatingly handsome. Despite her anger towards him meddling in her affairs, she couldn't help but feel a dangerous attraction towards him. Perhaps...no, definitely he was the most deliciously handsome human she had the pleasure of laying her sorry eyes on. He stood before her like a masterpiece crafted by the sun itself. His skin, kissed by the ocean breeze, glowed with a warm bronze hue that shimmered like spun gold. Each strand of his midnight black hair seemed to have a life of its own, defying gravity in a chaotic dance of soft yet untamed locks. His physique was that of a sculpted god, every muscle defined and powerful beneath his shirt, hinting at the strength and grace of a seasoned swimmer. She averted her eyes from him, the intensity of their gaze burning like a branding iron on her skin. She felt her cheeks flush with an embarrassing shade of scarlet as she stood up and approached him, determined to break the tension. With a hand trembling in fear and desperation, she reached out to him, mimicking Lucy's confident gesture. "Lilith," She introduced herself. With a slight raise of his eyebrow, he offered a hesitant smile as he shook her hand. "Kaias... you're ice-cold," he observed, genuine worry etched across his features. Speaking softly, he made sure to keep his voice gentle, wary not to provoke her further after her earlier outburst. It was evident she was in pain; otherwise, she wouldn't have seemed so at peace with the sea's tempting embrace, beckoning her toward its oblivion. "Don't worry about it, I'll be fine, after all it could have been worse I guess" She shifted uneasily pinned under the weight of his kindness, acutely aware of her own discomfort. In this unfamiliar setting, she felt like an intruder in a foreign land, exposed and vulnerable. Clad in garments that didn't belong to her, she couldn't shake off the sense of shame that lingered from her recent humiliation. Despite herself, her gaze involuntarily drifted towards him, drawn by a magnetic pull she tried to resist. At that moment, as the child observed silently, she grappled with conflicting emotions - the shame of being caught staring at another woman's husband mingled with a reckless disregard for propriety that whispered in the depths of her consciousness. Despite the revulsion swirling in her gut at herself, her gaze remained locked on him, drawn like a moth to a flame she couldn't resist. If not for the icy paralysis gripping her limbs, she knew her body would have been ablaze.