The differences between nymphs and fae, also known as faeries by some cultures, are subtle but necessary for survival. Nymphs come from the creation of ancient gods and goddesses who ruled this realm. Fae were always born of magic and breathed magic. Nymphs and fae master elements, but nymphs can become the elements. They can become the wind that howls. The trees that grow. It is said that most nymphs didn't know the extent of their powers until the gods and goddesses were locked behind the veil. As if that marked the moment they discovered their own freedom. — Excerpt from A Brief History of Mystical Creatures

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My research from the night before and list lay on my nightstand as consequential as the stack of emails piling up in my work mailbox while I lay on a chaise in front of the waves. The Casabella pulled forward and held in place by a rope and some sturdy knots.

A sea turtle lay in the sand a few feet away, basking in the mid-morning sun. Flecks of sand scattered along its shell and head as fizzling remnants of the ocean kissed its flippers. A call or whisper to return. But every creature needs its rest from home. As calming as the waters can be, there is also danger—predators waiting.

"Huh," I sigh, grabbing my Ube iced latte and sipping slowly.

Today, I placed the bag on the companion chaise bed. No need for me to have unwanted visitors while I relax. Bask in the sun like this sea turtle before returning to my life's stressful waters.

Yesterday was just a conversation and dinner. Zale is just a curious creature examining the powers of another—nothing new. Like every being around here who didn't come already coupled, he will be on to the new arrivals for today.

Well, unless they felt like their conquest was unsuccessful. Then, they might need to continue the battle out of sheer pride.

I frown at the thought. Just be a sea turtle, Paige. Eyelids flutter close as I lean back into the chaise. Just be a sea turtle. My hand scoops up a little sand and sprinkles it on my for good measure. The ocean lulls my senses as the sun heats my skin. This earth calls me; it is what I was created for, created from, by the great ones who walked this earth before the fall of the first veil.

Or become a flower. A fluttery but muffled voice calls to me. A vision of a woman in a tunic lazily walking through a flower garden, touching each bud. Counting each being in it as if they all belonged to her. Just for this one being's entertainment.

My eyes open, and I sit up, checking my hair and arms. A hand flies through a fading silver thread to my chest, the only reminder that not all beings have simply belonged to themselves. Some of us fought for it.

History. So much history.

The musk of his golden magic mixes with the sea breeze. I check that my bag still rests on the bed beside me. Then, I try to appear at ease while reading my book. A bag should deter him more than a fake person in a bathroom who never returns.

"This one will do," Zale says a few feet to my right.

My shoulders release a little bit of tension. Zale will stay over there, and I will read over here. To be safe, I adjust myself a little further back so that a mixture of my large-rimmed hat and the Casabella can cover my face.

I look down at my purple bikini with pride. The shade reminds me of the petals of a lilikoi in full bloom. Since I'm on vacation, I won't get more specific, but it makes me feel beautiful—not that it matters.

A crashing wave brings my eyes back to the sea. The white crest fizzles into the sea turtle, dragging its body back towards the ocean. Its head does not rise as another wave crashes into its body. Again, causing it to move back towards the sea.

"Poor thing," I mutter as the final wave causes it to disappear from sight.

Beyond the waves, a few boats teeter back and forth. The outlines of some people on the deck looking back towards us on the beach.

"Look at him," a woman whispers to her friend on the chaise beside me.

I roll my eyes and return to reading. Two lines. I read two fucking lines before my concentration is broken by some women behind me tittering over that hot guy on the beach. Buzzing, buzzing, breaking my attention from the fantasy world and romance written before me back into the real world.

Magic flicks across the bottom of my feet, making me curl them underneath me. A whip of magic snaps against my knee, and I yelp. My eyes look up to see his dark hair glistening in the sun. Shades of his locks seem to lean towards midnight blue instead of black when seen in the right light. Air sighs from my nostrils in annoyance before slamming my silver shield down on his offending gold threads.

I see his back muscles tense slightly before he turns to... pose. He poses for a woman taking a photo of him and then walks down the beach slowly. Is he posing while he walks?

A flash of silver has my eyes flicker back to the boats. Are those cameras?

Is he posing for people on the land and sea?

More people pause around use. Their presence pushes in around me. Some even stop to stand right beside my chaise bed.

"I can't believe that's really Zale Florimonte," a teenage girl gushes. "I'm totally going live with this."

They fan over him as if he is doing something unique. But he isn't. He is walking and flexing his muscles. Really, he is manipulating them with his magical golden musk.

"This is fucking annoying," I mutter, my fingers tensing along the edges of the page.

Around me, the buzzing increases as more people seem drawn to this beautiful being on the beach—this stunning flower needing to be touched and fawned over. The casually walking being, sparkling with his tan skin and dark hair, was no more than a tulip on parade.

I am here to rest. Not fall prey to some stupid game of a self-absorbed celebrity needing an endorphin kick. Sure, I could walk away right now. Let Zale have his audience in peace. But, again, I was here first. He came to my part of the beach. This idiot could have gone to any other part of the beach to do this. According to the map, there are plenty of areas where he could saunter down, pause, flex his back muscles casually, and then saunter some more.

"Fuck you," I mutter, grabbing my Ube latte and then slamming a silver shield around him.

The golden fleck around him fades. He continues to saunter and flex, but the people begin to leave. Their cameras down, searching for the next tourist attraction. Thankfully, a whale jumps in the distance, taking everyone else's attention away and moving them from my part of the beach.

Zale seems to realize this. I can feel his magic battling against my shield but I ignore it. Whatever endorphins he's feeding on can take a break, or he can move to be satisfied somewhere else.

Appear innocent. I remind myself and go back to casually reading my book while letting the shield drop. There is no way little old me could dampen his golden shine.

The splashes of people in the water and the rhythm of the waves ease my nerves from the crowd. Another loud splash, I glance up to see a whale jumping in the distance.

Water splashes on my legs, tearing my attention from the ocean to Zale's lapis eyes. Drops of water sparkle on his tan skin as he sits on the chaise beside me.

"Excuse you," I mutter, looking at my bag.

"Oh, right. I don't want to get this wet," he smiles, placing the bag on the sand between us. I just needed a place to rest in the shade. They didn't put mine up."

He motions towards where, she's guessing, his chaise beds are a few sets down. I smirk at the thought of him purposefully leaving the Casabella down. Another subtle way to get his endorphin kick.

"But how will they be able to see you sunbathe if you're in the shade?" I ask.

Zale glances at the feet still curled under me and smiles. "Maybe the show shouldn't be for everyone?"

He leans forward, placing his elbows on his tanned knees as his eyes glitter at her. I tilt my head, assessing him, a smirk itching at the corners of my mouth.

"You really are something," I release the smirk.

He raises his eyebrows in answer, and so I lean forward.

"Next time," I start, placing my chin on my palm. "Maybe there shouldn't have to be a show at all because some people just want to relax and read books."

Zale observes my book for the first time. "Oh," he looks over his shoulder. "That makes sense. Carry on."

Then, the self-absorbed idiot lies down and closes his eyes. I shake my head at him and return to reading my book.

Within a few minutes, his steady breathing mingles with the waves. It becomes the sound that keeps me company as the sun shifts in the sky above us.

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Word Count: 1,567

Total Word Count: 6,599