there’s something alligator-like about the way the lady prowls, eyes above water. una shifts backwards, a small current making her retreat look natural.
her legs kick lazily, the leg hair standing up, raised gooseflesh on her thighs matching the goosebumps in her joking voice.
”There ain’t enough room in this town for the both of us—”
she's having more fun than she should be. she blinks once, slow, and her eye- lashes stick together in dark clumps.
the girl swims away, and agatha swims forward. slow. lazy. taking her time.
"Which is why you should probably go back to the Sea."
she's joking, but her tone doesn't say so. in the same slow, careful drawl,
"This is my pool, remember?"















