This is a collection of drabbles, not an actual fic. Each segment can be read individually. It should be noted that these are being written for an artist on tumblr, so updates will be sporadic and most likely tie in with tumblr posts.
floating in a turquoise sea
Arrowsbane
I: there's an ocean in your eyes
Yuuri scowls, sighing heavily as he resists the urge to throw his sketchbook into the tumultuous waves that splash up against his feet. He's perched on a rock near the base of the cliffs, the tide curling around his ankles and a half-hearted hope for inspiration curled up somewhere in the bottom of his stomach.
Three hours, he's been there.
Three hours of cold feet and damp trousers.
Three hours of dodging nesting sea gulls and wiping away sea spray from his glasses.
Three hours… and nothing to show for it except the possibility of sunburn on the back of his neck. That's really going to hurt later he thinks, absently wondering if he has any aloe vera in the cupboards.
It's day like these when Yuuri really hates being an artist.
He sighs tiredly again, rubbing the back of his hand against his forehead and scrunches up his eyes in an attempt to gain some perspective. Deep breath in, and then out. You can do this, he tells himself.
This time when he opens his eyes, Yuuri shakes out his shoulders and lets his mind wander. His pen follows. Down across the coastline, shading in the outline of the lighthouse that sits on the point of the bay. He carefully inks in the horizon, and adds the curl of the waves.
Swish swish, hisses the ocean. Swish swish. Yuuri wiggles his toes, careful not to lose one of his sandals to the surf. There's a cloud passing over the crest of the cliff in the distance, and he makes sure to include it too.
The sun is warm on his back, and there's a rather brave crab inching closer and closer to the big toe on his right foot, but Yuuri's lost in his own world - a world of white sands and colored shells. What must life be like beneath the turbulent waves, he wonders.
A sharp pain in his foot breaks through the cloud of thoughts as the crab finally snaps its pincers closed around the wriggling toe.
Ouch! Yuuri yelps, snatching his foot away from the plucky crustacean and accidentally hurls his ink stick away into the sea.
"No!" He wails in despair, clutching his half-finished piece to his chest so that the wild waters doesn't ruin his hard work. Typical. It figures that the moment he finds inspiration something would ruin the moment. Story of his life.
Yuuri exhales heavily, slumping forwards so his head touches his raised knees, his glasses bumping against the edge of his sketchpad. A shadow falls over him, as something blocks out the sun.
"Mmm?" Yuuri raises his head, feeling rather emotionally wrung-out. What in the name of sanity?
There's an outstretched hand in front of his nose, his missing ink stick sitting in the middle of the palm, still dripping salt water.
"I think you dropped this," says a smooth male voice. Yuuri blinks, almost sleepily, staring up at a bare-chested man with silver hair, eyes bluer than the sea and a wicked smile.
How in the name of sanity did the guy get out here without him hearing?
Yuuri's eyes drift down, fully expecting to see board shorts and a pair of beaten sandals.
Instead he finds himself gaping at a tail coated in scales of deep pink and red, something impossible. The stuff of dreams and children's' fairy tales.
"Um," He starts, "Wha-?"
Big blue eyes stare curiously at him, hand still in the same position. Yuuri's brain shorts out, his vision swimming. The scene around him tilts alarmingly, and his foot slips on the algae-covered rock. With a short scream of panic, Yuuri finds himself falling into the sea. In a last-ditch effort, he throws his sketchpad up onto the rocks before crashing into the icy sea.
It's a struggle to keep his glasses from being washed away, and Yuuri almost cuts himself grabbing ahold of the rock, pulling himself up through the surface. Salt water washes into his mouth and he chokes, struggling to not breathe it down into his lungs.
"Um, are you okay?" The man - merman? - asks, blue eyes shining with mirth. He's now holding both Yuuri's ink stick and pad carefully above the water's reach.
Yuuri really wants to snap back that no, he's not okay, but right now he's more concerned with finding a foothold because while he's happy to draw the ocean, he's not too excited to be in it.
Today really is not his day, Yuuri thinks as he hauls himself back onto the rock, gasping for breath. The merman tilts his head, silver strands of hair falling across his eyes.
"I'm Viktor," The merman tells him, flashing a brilliant smile. The kind that should really be illegal, hell just being that pretty in general should not be physically possible Yuuri thinks.
The merman, no, Viktor gently sets the pad and ink stick down on the rock, before holding out a hand which Yuuri gratefully - and a little dazedly - takes.
"Yuuri." He replies, still feeling rather as if he's stuck in the twilight zone somehow.
It's the first of many long days down by the seafront.
AN
For alexandralumetta dot tumblr dot com & drmuffinofdoom dot tumblr dot com.
Inspired by this post here: : / / alexandralumetta dot tumblr dot com / post /154580452190 /ah-ah-sketch-well-rushed-is-rushed-but
