It's well past sundown when I head home. And as expected, Mum gives me a stink about not calling and telling where I've been.

"Do you know how worried I've been? I've been sitting here contemplating calling the police."
"Mum. Please. I'm here. I'm home."
"I even contacted your friend Maya. She didn't know where you were either."
"She's not my friend, Mum. Now can we drop this?" I turn to the stairs.
She grabs my arm. "I'm getting worried about you. You disappear without a trace. You don't answer my calls. And looking at you it seems like you've lost-"
"For fuck's sake! Can you please just let it go! I don't want to talk about it."
I yank my arm free, sprint to my room and slam shut the door. Dammit! It wasn't supposed to go this way. It was supposed to be a calm, reassuring explanation. Now she'll be suspicious and worried. I have to fix this. But how? The only tactic I can use is the truth. When I come down for tea, I tell her everything apart from the assault.

"... I just didn't want to come home. I needed space. To think."
"I'm sorry, honey," Mum says, holding me.

Being in her arms warms like sunlight. The creep that grabbed me got away but telling her about it would do no good. She'd insist we call Dad and have him use his contacts in the police to open an investigation. And dealing with them is the last thing I need right now. The details of the party, however, are enough to settle the matter between us. On Monday, a familiar face appears in the store. He finds me unpacking at the vegetable section, his black eyes fixed on me like a laser beam.

"What do you want?" I ask.
"I wanted to apologise. For the party. I told them they were dicks and to go fuck themselves."
"And you're telling me this because?"
"I... just wanted to see if you were okay."
Simon rubs the back of his neck. He's actually trying to be nice for once and I relent in the face of his concern.
"I'm okay. Really. Thank you."
"So... you wanna hang out sometime?"
"Hang out? You mean like a date?"
"If you like."
There's a sharp pinch in my stomach. "Look, Simon..."
"That's a no then," he turns, his white sneakers already on their way out of the isle.

I let him leave on his own. Nothing good will come of me going after him. Better he find someone who can return his feelings. But as the days go by, I begin to notice him more at the store. Or on the street following me. The moment I turn, he comes to a halt, sometimes fiddling with whatever he has in his pocket. Other times he cuts across the street pretending he's going in the opposite direction. It dials my mild concern into full blown paranoia as he pops up everywhere I am. One moment I'm minding my own business, and then the next, there he is. And even though he doesn't do or say anything, the fact he's there sets my teeth on edge.
In spite of the lowkey stalking, I don't tell anyone. Not Mum. Not Dad. Not Granny. Not... Galen.
Being with him makes me forget, well, everything. Noticing my interest in the nursery, he patiently goes through each plant and their uses. Some are used for food, others for medicine, and a few are grown for the purpose of creating textiles like the delicate fabric in the hammock. Most seeds are cultivated using a combination of magic and nutrients whereas the rest are harvested out at sea and taken back to be tended for. Watching him tending them with the certainty of a seasoned gardener humbles me as I end up cutting myself while stripping the thorns.
Wounds he heals with his magic.

But we don't spend all our time in his sanctum. Throughout summer, he shows me different areas of the lake. Areas where he collects material for his tools he asks me to make with him. I quietly admit I'm no good at making things with my hands, whereupon he challenges me to give it a try. The process is a learning curve of trial and error but eventually I manage to produce a half-decent chisel and a gouge. He also challenges me to make traps for catching fish. Traps he teaches me to make which after several failed attempts I successfully employ to catch a carp. A moment we celebrate as we prepare it for our meal. I, in turn, teach him about the surface. About human culture and technology. And even though I can't fully explain every aspect about the modern world, he always listens with an attentive ear. I also begin reading to him. With the aid of his magic I bring with me classics like Pride and Prejudice, Brave New World, To Kill a Mockingbird to name a few. And when he reveals he can't read or write, I teach him that as well.
As thanks, he takes me to a den at the farthest end of the lake where a pair of translucent creatures live in secret. The creatures are similar to arctic wolves only with longer fur and tail.

"What are they?" I ask, the silver glow hypnotising me.
"Widor'lukoros. Water wolves. The last of their kind."
The male stares at me cautiously, his silver eyes glowing with intelligence. The female emerges from the den, nudging the snout of her mate before turning to us.
"Then you protect them? Guard their secret?"
"I offer them shelter to protect what they value most."
"Survival?"
"No," Galen smiles. "They wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice themselves if the situation called for it."
He approaches the wolves with his hands outstretched, and I feel him communicating with them in a silent, telepathic language. The male whines as he and the female retreat back into the den.
"They'll let you see them."
Them? My heart skips a beat as I swim through the den. The passage leads into a cave held standing by four strong pillars. In the middle, five cubs huddle together in a single fluffy entity. Their eyes have barely open, and their legs are like stumps underneath their chubby bodies. One of the cubs lifts its head, wobbling as it crawls over its siblings. The motion tugs at my heartstrings. And I remember the first moment with Nelly. When she was the one out of her litter who settled in my lap and began licking my face. Oh, Nelly. You were a sweetheart I didn't deserve.
"What's wrong?" asks Galen.
"It's nothing," I wipe my eyes. "I was just remembering Nelly. She was the sweetest dog you'd ever meet. Always by my side protecting me."
"Did something happen to her?"
"She got run over by a speeding car. Arsehole didn't even bother to stop and check if she was all right. The veterinarian said the best they could do was making her passing as painless as possible."
"You miss her."
"I do. Dad suggested we get another dog, but I refused. I didn't want to put myself through that misery again."
The female woofs and flicks her tail.
"Thank you. For allowing me to see this."

We leave the family to their domestic bliss and return to higher water. Galen keeps asking questions about Nelly. About my parents. And every little thing in between. I find myself narrating the entire story about my life, from my uneventful childhood all the way up to my studies at university.

"You wish to earn a degree in accounting?"
"Yes. Once I have my degree, I want to work as an accountant or bookkeeper."
"You sound very sure of your choice."
"That's because I've thought about it. Since I've always liked counting and reading I think it'll make a great fit."
"What do your parents think?"
"Well, my mum's fine with whatever I choose, as long as it's decent and legal. But I know my dad secretly wants me studying law like he did."
"But you don't want that."
"No. Not one bit."
"Do you think I could..." he falls quiet.
"Could...?"
"Never mind."
"Galen, whatever's on your mind, say it."
"It was a stupid idea."
"Galen, you told me not to give up when I struggled with my traps so don't give up now."
"All right. Do you think I could meet them?"
I hold his gaze. "You want to meet my parents?"
"If that's not appropriate..."
"No. It's fine. It's just... What about the sun?"
"I can move in the sun if I have to. And my magic will conceal me as human."
"I - All right. I'll see what I can do."

Preparing a meeting goes a lot smoother than I expected. Once the interrogation's over Mum and Granny suggest bringing him home for dinner.

"Make sure you serve fish. And vegetables. Lots of them."
"We will. We will. But..." Mum stops.
"What?" I ask.
"Your father will want wine served."

Attending counselling has slowly been improving their relationship. They're able to communicate better and show deeper understanding for each other's needs. That should make any child happy, right? Seeing one's parents get back together. Granny's certainly been in high spirits since then. One thing bothering me though has to do with Galen's wardrobe. Or lack thereof. He can't show up at our house wearing nothing but his net. To rectify this problem, I buy him a pair of shoes, socks, shirt, black cotton trousers, and a grey hoodie to protect him from the sunlight. And when the day rolls around, I gift it for him to wear.

"Here's the clothes I picked for you," I say, handing him the bag.
"Did you get these for me?"
"Yes. You'll need to co-" His eyes glitter like gold. "D-dry yourself properly before putting them on." I shove the towel into his hands. And he wipes his muscles in slow, thoughtful motions. Don't stare. Don't stare. Don't stare - Goddammit!
"Is everything all right?"
"Yes! Everything's fine."
Even with the sun hurting him, he's more concerned about me.
"Just hurry, please. The longer we dally, the greater the risk of us being discovered."

The image of Simon hovers in the back of my mind. He puts his clothes on. The hoodie's a bit too big but there's no time changing it now. Galen raises his arms, the faintest twinkle emanating from his fingers as he lifts them over his face. The gills and webbing fades away, as do the glow encapsulating his form. In one downward movement, he transforms himself into a handsome young man with shoulder-length golden hair.

"Put on your hood," I say.
The evening sun paints the horizon peach and violet, enthralling me as we stroll along the shoreline.
"How long has it been since you walked the earth?" I ask.
"Hmm. Based on your timeline I think it's been twenty - No, thirty years since I last wandered erith'duin."
"Thirty years? How old are you, exactly?"
"Asrai live very long lives. Our bodies don't degenerate like yours do; we simply experience an... intuitive sense when we're nearing the end of our lives."
"Work with me, please."
"I was young when we withdrew from the surface. It was during the time your ancestors suffered under the Great War."
"The Great War? You mean the First World War?"
"I believe so."
"Did you return to the surface to search for your people?"
"Yes. But it was a foolish endeavour. I'd realised even before stepping foot on the shore that I was alone."
I slip my hand into his. "You're not alone," I whisper. "Not anymore."
His smile blinds me to all things, and I come within a hair's breadth tripping on the pavement.
"Careful," he says, tightening the grip on my hand.

How cute we must look. A young couple, holding hands. That's not the worst thing people could think, is it? But we're not a couple, technically. Truth is, I haven't wanted to ask the question which have been preying on my mind lately. The question I'm well aware requires an answer. I turn my head, absorbing his profile.
What are you to me?