Sypha watched the woman grab food from her hand as if there wasn’t a platter right before them, a three tiered platter and worse, a whole café who’s staff would cater to her every whim. Perhaps it was the galactic difference in their worlds and certainly their upbringing. Manners and decorum were a daily part of her upbringing. Her mother taught her use of chopsticks, knives and forks, the cultural significance of certain requirements and necessities at a table, all to keep her world limitless. She could not sit at a table with her father and certain leaders from afar, and not understand that she could not even touch her utensils until the host tasted their main dish. Mother had seen to a full education, one she then expanded on, respecting the cultures she would come to meet.
Nowhere was it appropriate to eat from a hosts fingers, when not offered to you. Again she found herself wondering where her brother fished Ariel from and what were the norms where she called home. Worse, she fought back the urge break her fucking fingers off and feed them to her. A smile and painted expression hid the true murderous intent bubbling beneath the surface.
Perhaps her biggest issue with Flounder’s friend was beyond her lacking sense and suitability, but her ignorance of how to carry herself in Sypha’s presence. For even her perfect brothers had better table manners when they were toddlers. This thing had no intention of learning what was proper and demanded, and worse, how Sypha absolutely hated those who presented themselves with ill conduct.
But since she could not suffocate the fish course, awaiting her brother’s completion of this foolish game, she smiled, composed, napkin cleaning her fingers then being placed over lap again. And she inspected her emotions given as she answered. The question given she ignored, the answer plainly clear.
Yet as she spoke, the air changed, her very aura seemed to transform with malice. The darkening skies caught her glance and her smile widened. Something wasn’t completely true about this little guppy. The darker the clouds churned, the more Sypha’s smile deepened. She could sense something more beneath her skin, something edging to release. Her expression changed, her blood moving faster beneath her skin. Transfixed, she watched the purity of rage peal away the innocent guppy’s act, a chuckle building in her chest.
But as quickly as it appeared, that glimpse of truth, she buried it again. The chuckle passed her lips in form of a breathy exclaim, amusement barely hidden. “Or just maybe”, Sypha began in Japanese, then let out a soft sweet giggle, her mind calculating. The sound flowed for a moment and though sweet held a ominous aftertaste. “There’s quite a bit there, isn’t there”, she said tapping the screen of her dimly lit phone and scanning the notifications quickly. Eyes returning to the mermaid she continued, “beyond what you say. Nightmares that bring anger are like blistering sores on the heart.” She hummed then glanced down at her nails, taping them, one after the other. “In your case, perhaps a scab. But you keep picking at it. Careful sweets,” she sang taking another macaroon, sitting back and keeping it from the thieving hands of the guppy.
After a bite she continued, “I don’t think this sort is suitable for my gala though. Killing a person one hates would be a victory, given the strife associated no? And yet, what is that? Regret? Shame? Its almost like that version of you scares you more than the act, or like it’s not quite over.” She finished the macaroon then hummed. “But that’s some imagination you have. What do they say? The subconscious works on our desires?” she said shaking her head, gaze focused, lips curved up into a smile. For the first time, beyond wondering of her intentions, this little thing had garnered true interest from Sypha.
The syllables sung through the air, in the right language, the right words, but the wrong voice to bring her comfort. As Kiyomi wiped away the last of the macaroon she tried to not pout. Sypha was just one more person that couldn’t help her with her dreams, but at least she didn’t dismiss them. Or worse push her to find them, live them, again and again as if they held the key to every problem the coven was facing. A scab was the perfect way to describe them. Which left her wondering why they refused to heal after all this time.
Among the other dainty rings adorning her fingers, she kept finding and fiddling with the simple, borderline kitschy, beaded ring as Sypha’s voice floated around the soup in her head. There was a change in the air, enticement leaving a tingling taste on her tongue in a film, a coating of foreign emotions. Apparently she had gained the vampire’s interest the moment her mask slipped, which left her with a choice. Not a difficult one by any means, but she still hesitated.
“Yes, my imagination is rather … potent,” she mused softly, almost a whisper, before she smoothed out a wrinkle from her skirt. “That may be true for some, however, I’ve always found myself rather lost among the desires of others. Perhaps I’m too much like the sea, the reflections I see are never my own.”
“My apologies for not being more helpful, Sypha-sama.” Kiyomi’s head dipped as she rose from her chair. For the split second that her hair remained a curtain over her face, she couldn’t bring herself to hide the exhaustion that tethered itself deep into her being. Countless sleepless nights revealing themselves before she blinked and relied on the opal flecks in her eyes to prop up her perky façade.
“Thank you for your company and time,” only the width of her smile was feigned, the practiced brightness had become a habit not so easily broken. “I understand your schedule is busy but I do hope we can have another interesting conversation in the near future. Maybe you could share one of your dreams with me next time?”
Kiyomi knew her words could be seen as niceties for the sake of themselves, but a new shimmer rippled in her gaze as she drifted away from the table. The tide had changed around her again, but perhaps this time she could better harness this current. Regardless, it was apparent that she had to put some more effort into correcting her course.
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