Page 18 of Drown Me Gently (Flipped Fairytales)

The surface was everything he’d imagined it to be. Sun-drenched and waiting for him like he belonged there all along.

Soft linens, warm breezes, the taste of honeysuckle in every breath. Elias took him in without hesitation, without question, as though he’d been waiting for Auren’s arrival all his life.

The first thing Elias did was dress him.

Light cotton shirts that clung to his shoulders and opened loosely at his sternum.

Breeches that hugged his hips, stitched in navy and cream, the buttons carved from polished bone.

The tailor’s eyes darted curiously over Auren’s body, but her hands were skilled and kind.

Elias stood nearby, watching with a smile that made Auren’s skin buzz.

“Perfect,” Elias murmured. “You look like something from my dreams.”

Then came the servant girls, chattering in lilting voices as they fussed over his hair, braiding it into intricate patterns and weaving in soft blue beads.

“Weave these as well. He likes them.” Elias ordered, nodding to the silver and gold silks.

“Yes, Sir.”

Auren’s chest warmed under Elias’s attention. The girl’s fingers were nimble and practiced, and when they finished, Elias approached, eyes gleaming.

“Breathtaking,” he said, reaching out to tuck a loose strand behind Auren’s ear. His fingers brushed skin and lingered a beat longer. “They don’t make beauty like yours on land.”

Auren’s cheeks burned. He ducked his head, smiling despite himself. He couldn’t speak, but his face said enough. Elias offered his hand, and Auren took it without hesitation.

They spent the day roaming the city.

It was alive with color, sound, and scent.

It was nothing like the solemn quiet of the sea.

Vendors shouted over one another in a dozen different tongues, peddling fruits in all shapes and shades.

Spices clung to the air. Cinnamon and clove, firepepper and sugar.

Roasted meats turned on open flames, their smoke rising in savory ribbons.

The taste of the world was as wild as its scent.

Auren devoured soft bread smeared with jam, sucked the juice of honey-orange slices from his fingers, and let Elias feed him bite after bite of something he called lamb .

It melted on Auren’s tongue like butter.

“You like that?” Elias chuckled, brushing his thumb over Auren’s lower lip. “There’s more where that came from. Anything you want—just ask.”

Coins passed hands all day. Shiny metallic pieces that Auren had only ever seen rusting in shipwrecks. Elias gave them freely, slipping them to merchants, performers, and servers with easy charm. All the while, he held Auren’s hand. Guiding him. Welcoming him. Choosing him.

Even though Auren couldn’t speak, they found ways to talk. Gestures. Smiles. Pointed looks and over-the-top expressions. Auren mimed frustration more than once, dramatically flailing his hands and pointing at his throat.

Elias laughed, grabbing his hand and pressing a kiss to the knuckles.

“I don’t need words to know what you’re thinking,” he said. “I’ve been dreaming of you too long for that.”

Auren didn’t know how his heart didn’t float right out of his chest.

They passed street musicians and tavern bands. Fiddles and flutes layered harmonies that clashed and danced and spun through the air like magic. Auren had never heard anything like it. The haunting hymns of the Merfolk in Atlantis couldn’t even compare.

This music was wild. Joyful. Human .

Elias led him into one of the largest taverns as the sun dipped beyond the horizon, the whole world washed in soft amber. The room was a riot of sound and movement. People danced, laughed, and drank freely. Flames danced in hanging lanterns, and candles clustered on long tables.

Auren’s wide eyes must’ve shown too much.

Elias leaned in, whispering, “This is the best tavern in town. And now, with you here, the night is absolutely perfect.”

They danced.

Auren was terrible at it.

He tripped over his feet, stomped on Elias’s toes twice, and spun the wrong way so hard he knocked into a nearby server. But Elias only laughed, cradling Auren’s waist, steadying him.

“You’re adorable,” he said. “If you weren’t already mine, I’d fall for you all over again just watching you try.”

Auren bit his lip to hold back a grin, pressing his forehead to the crook of Elias’s neck as they swayed gently, even after the music ended. When they finally sat, Auren’s legs ached in the best possible way. Elias handed him a goblet filled with something dark and sweet.

“Berry wine,” he said. “You’ll love it.”

The wine was thick and luxurious, the sweetness clinging to Auren’s tongue.

He took another sip. Then another. The warmth hit, spreading through his stomach and down to his limbs.

The firelight blurred into orange whisps.

The music softened into a steady hum, a heartbeat beneath the world.

He leaned into Elias’s side, eyelids heavy.

The room swayed, as if he were back underwater.

“You alright, darling?” Elias asked, brushing fingers along his jaw. “Getting sleepy?”

Auren nuzzled his face into Elias’s neck with a blissful sigh. Gods, he loved it when Elias called him darling. Loved how tenderly he touched him. How he made him feel like the most precious thing in the world.

“Let’s get you somewhere comfortable to sleep.”

Elias’s voice was a lullaby, and Auren let himself be led. The feel of the linen shirt beneath his cheek was soft, comforting. His limbs were slow, heavy with wine. There was a thickness to his thoughts. A warmth that slid too deep, too fast.

Still, he didn’t care.

The scent of Elias clung to him. Oil. Smoke. Linen.

And there it was again, hanging at the edges of Auren’s fading consciousness.

Decay.

He coughed once, a light breath. Maybe it was the wine. Or a breeze carrying the smell of rotting fish from the docks. He didn’t let himself dwell.

He was wanted. Chosen. This was what he’d always longed for. And he’d come this far to claim it.

The last thing Auren remembered was the hum of tavern music, the clatter of tankards on old wood, and the steady pulse of Elias’s hand wrapped around his.

He was in bliss.