She knows love among humans to be like the moment glass shatters, when that prick of pain tingles across fingers, and when the cold of a blizzard hits the ocean, back where it's cold, where it's home. But she isn't here to find a mate or attempt to find love. She is here to be here, to make new discoveries.
One day, she may return home, with a pocket full of lived dreams and a lot of insights, and then she may settle down. She's bandaged her own heart, time and time again, and humans don't need to create any new wounds for her. She deserves better, and so, she whispers that to herself when she needs to.
And then, here's this man who looks at her like she is lightning shooting across the night sky, a bright flash of beauty in an otherwise dark environment, a little way of finally peering past the deep and finding something new there.
"You're pretty smart, you know?" His voice is rough around the edges, all too real, and he leans against the wall, "They really do hire the best." It's blatant honesty, and Shirayuki feels fight kick in, feels the desire to fight back, to avoid the compliments by making him leave.
Instead, she stills her own impulses; it is never good to make a bad impression for her job, for her career, even when her heart sings an old, broken tune, one learned long ago, years ago, and still held on to and cherished in ways she wishes it wouldn't.
"They are careful with who they hire." She tells him simply, turning her attention back to her work, watching the way the plants respond to her touch as if they've always known her. Years of practice make this look effortless, graceful, and hide her own initial struggles so very well.
The ocean doesn't raise land herbalists, not at all, doesn't raise gardeners or anyone in a greenhouse. It is all new terrain, that she has mastered and adapted to, fallen in love with by its side.
"Evidently." He smiles.
She looks away. Finding the leaves of the plant before her enchanting, memorizing them, and already half calculating that they are perfectly healthy, especially given the fact that one day, she might not be able to stare at these, to watch them grow at her touch, to cherish them in person and not just in memory.
They are careful who they hire, except when a Selkie slips into their midst as naturally as if she was always this way.
"You must be the new guard, they said something about?" She speaks up, because she can still feel his gaze on her, one that makes her as uncomfortable as it feels promising. Her heart is more scar than brilliant starlight, so she knows better than to listen to this.
"Yeah." He grins; she can hear it in his voice, "They only hire the best here too."
She looks over, half against her will, and stares baffled. His teeth are brilliant and white and visible, and his eyes are half closed with the wideness of his smile. It makes her heart practice somersaults, and makes her hands sweat in nerves. She knows what that leads to, a pretty smile leads to a host of scars, even her body knows despite her heart's enthusiasm.
"I guess so." She shrugs, and moves around the greenhouse, eyes back on the flowers, where it's safe to stare, and she moves like water through them, checking leaves and stems, watching the way the water circulates and checking for anything new, a new leaf, a new bud, a new flower. She finds nothing has changed since yesterday, and her disappointment is far too palpable.
"See you?" And when he turns to leave, relief pools in her stomach, and Shirayuki takes a deep breath. There is much too much of a chance that things will go wrong once again.