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fairywren[OOC: This was played off-site and I want to make sure it gets archived. Eg, give others a chance to catch up on the dramaz XD It actually starts with sirenstoryteller talking. Also, sorry about the tense-changing? Eh. This immediately follows the UV Rave.]
The night had been exhilarating. While a small part of his mind felt guilty over utterly ditching his friends, the rest of him couldn't care less since he'd spent the majority of it dancing and drinking with Wren. Unlike in the middle of the pumpkin patch, the dark atmosphere and alcohol had lowered Alex's guard and he allowed him to get lost in the moment and the man beside him. Who he couldn't take his eyes or hands off of. Granted, it was nothing close to some of the displays he'd seen but it was bolder then he had been in ages.
Now, the night was almost passing into morning and they were both covered in multiple colors of paint. The party had grown stuffy from all the bodies so Alex had suggested going out to the shore to get some air and wash off in the ocean. So that's where they were, walking down to the shore despite the cooler temperatures.
--
Wren is in a better mood than he's almost willing to admit: for one of the few nights since getting here he's not thinking about anything but the moment and the man he's with. Not Rian and Lexi, not some work he should be doing or the secrets of this town.
Just dancing and touching, the beat of the bass, slick paint on skin and the grin it surprises to Alex's face, the warmth of him tugged close. (Well, maybe a few other things Wren would enjoy with him under his hands have crossed his mind.)
He's happy to get lost in it, and the suggestion of a swim is, if anything, better. The night's clear and cool on hot skin and he can hear the crash of waves as they draw closer.
"Hey," he says, leaning in lazily. "...Race you." He grins, kissing him and taking off down the beach.
It took a moment for Alex to concentrate again after the kiss but when he did, he grinned wildly and chased after him. His longer legs were an asset and he was able to catch up to the older man. With a laugh, he grabbed Wren around the waist and started tugging him towards the surf. "Water looks cold, want to find out?" He teased.
Wren laughs as Alex grabs him, letting himself be pulled: he fights back just a little, more out of the principle of the thing than any real reluctance.
"Oh no, not the water, anything but that," he teases back and twists in Alex's grasp to tangle them further so they both tumble down into the surf.
Laughter begets laughter and Alex was gasping for breath between giggles. They crash into the water, Alex's back hitting first as he holds tightly onto Wren to make sure he couldn't wiggle away. The water isn't very deep at this point so he got his legs under him so he had support to steal a kiss without drowning.
Then he let go and laid back to float in the water with a soft sigh. As a siren, being in his home waters was always relaxing, almost on a spiritual level. He was already bursting with happiness after the fun night and the water only turned it into pure bliss. And he was very happy to have someone to share it with. Maybe he could share the blissful feeling too. In his drunk way, there was only one way to do that and it involved with taking his shirt off for a start...
Wren laughs, splashing down into the water, letting Alex tug him. The water feels like it should be freezing, but he doesn't really notice it, pressing both hands to Alex's face to kiss him back before letting him go.
He watches Alex's face, whole body relax as he floats back and can't help smiling at his contented expression. After the stories and songs they'd exchanged, there's something that seems right about sharing a moment in the water.
Wren ducks under to get himself used to the cold and swims deeper, surfacing next to Alex with a shake of his head, licking salt from his lips. "Hey gorgeous," he says as if there's nothing to it, "this was a good idea."
In a moment, Wren was going to see just how right it was.
Even as intoxicated as he was, Alex still found it in himself to flush at being called gorgeous. He's not self conscious, it's just wasn't something he heard very often. Once he pulled his shirt and over shirt over his head, he leaned over to kiss Wren tenderly. "Someone entrancing inspired me. And now I want to show you something..."
He pushed the other away lightly so he could remove his shoes and pants, bundling them together with his shirts, before tossing the whole thing back to shore. Wren was treated to a quick wink and sly grin. "Watch this."
Taking a deep breath, he laid back in the water again, thankfully drunk enough not to worry about his nakedness in front of someone else. It wasn't like those parts were going to be there for long. With his eyes closed, Alex felt for the siren part of him and let it free. In a blur of a moment, his lower half was gone, replaced by that of a Leopard Shark. The spots and stripes stopped at his waist in the front but behind they came up to decorate the dorsal fin that sat in the small of his back. They also decorated the back and sides of his forearms, where small fins had sprout facing outward. The coloration was also evidenced in his blond curls, which were now dappled with blacks and browns. Once the transformation was complete, he righted himself in the water and splashed Wren playfully with his tail, grinning a smile that was now composed of sharp shark's teeth. Even not intoxicated, he was proud of his siren form and desperately wanted to show off for this man he was growing to care for.
He swam around Wren in lazily circles before surfacing near him. "What do you think?"
Wren kisses him back, lingering a little. Though, there's a small part of him that raises a yellow flag at being called entrancing, and at the way he's a little self-satisfied about making Alex blush by calling him gorgeous (and yet thinks it shouldn't be surprising to hear). Wren can't help always jumping to the part where it ruins their friendship, or it gets boring for someone, or someone wants him to change more than he's willing to, or all of the above). He's not someone who falls in love. He's not someone you fall in love with.
But right now this feels good, right, and he's intent on letting it for a little while longer.
"All right," he smiles with a raised eyebrow as Alex undresses, grinning as he looks him over.
Whatever he was expecting, it isn't what happens next: the blur of movement as legs transform into a long tail, dappled with spots and stripes that climbed into a fin at his back. Wren freezes, breath caught in his throat as Alex - still himself, and completely different as well - turns over to grin a startling sharp-toothed grin, splashing at him. He's never seen anything like it. He'd been told -- Spencer had told him there was magic here. He'd dropped the word sirens. But somehow shapeshifting --
He and Alex have talked about shapeshifting, about mermaids and sirens and selkies, about legends, always about mythology. They've kissed and laughed and talked about their families. About his mother's family, about Alex's brothers. But not this. He's never implied that what he studies is the truth of shapeshifting, that he knows about it from experience. Maybe that's frightening. But what about trusting someone isn't? What about any of this isn't frightening?
He reaches, stunned still, to touch his waist where it slides from skin to tail, the texture changing under his fingers to a shark's skin; he knows if he were to brush upward it would be sharp. "It's beautiful," he says, "you're beautiful," because that's true and Wren doesn't lie even when he's caught off guard, and then, "You didn't tell me."
It wasn't exactly the easiest thing to reveal, despite Alex having grown up completely at ease with what he was. As he had found around the world, that wasn't always true. In Siren Cove, it was the worst kept secret in the world so he'd never had to be careful. But he had quickly realized that it was much easier to get access to archives and sources when he treated his heritage as a myth, a story, rather then true. In truth, Alex was doing two very different veins of research in one: the heritage of his people and the stories through which the rest of the world knew them.
So his siren self had turned from an open secret to a closely guarded one. It was yet another reason in the long list of why Alex hadn't felt the strong need from a relationship. How does one bring up the fact they are actually a mythical creature who is half shark? It really spoke to Alex's comfort level with Wren that he felt safe enough to reveal this about himself, especially given his suspicions that Wren was a siren himself. Though being intoxicated did not hurt.
Still, even sober he wouldn't regret this decision. He did trust Wren and it was about time he showed him how much.
"Thank you. I'm not as big as my brothers but I'm more colorful." Even in his siren form, Alex blushed as he was called beautiful and splashed Wren lightly as a sign of affection. He let Wren touch as much as he wanted, glad he didn't seem to warn about his shark skin being sharp. He knew Wren would take to his other form. "It's not exactly the easiest subject to bring up," he then admitted softly.
Wren can't help but smile a little at Alex's self-description, even though he still doesn't know what to think. He knows it's a privilege, he can tell from his tone that this is something he's been holding back and he knows that he ought to feel glad that he feels safe telling Wren the truth.
Maybe it's that he wanted him to already feel safe. Or be willing to not be completely safe, maybe, because life isn't safe, people aren't safe, honesty is as good as you can get and sometimes the truth can be terribly dangerous, and maybe that's what it is: that he feels exposed. That's not fair. Every step of this is more dangerous for Alex and he knows that. That's half the problem, he's half the problem.
Whatever it is, though, he can't help feeling unsettled, like the rug's been pulled out from under him. Wren feels a little bit like he must seem like an idiot to Alex. Rambling on about his family as he has, their stories, their collection of mystical tales. And then - what he's been wondering ever since Spencer told him that magic is real, what he's been holding onto, the doubts about what he's been told, who he is --
"So are you -- " What are you is just the worst phrasing ever, it's nothing Wren could say to someone, much less someone he cares about. "The stories about the sirens, the mermaids --" He takes a long breath. "They're real."
Even as intoxicated as he was, Alex could feel the uncertainty pouring off Wren as the silence grew between them. He moved to tread water in front of where Wren stood, his tail gently swishing against the other's legs as he kept his upper body afloat.
Wren may not have said it but Alex heard it in his voice. He bit his lower lip and frowned, looking down at the water guilty. "Yes. It's all true. I don't only study myths...I study the history of my people. I'm a siren, mermaids can't change into a human. Selkies are real too." He licked his lips hesitantly before he asked in a soft voice, "Wren? Are you alright? With...with all this?" Suddenly, fear started to crawl down his spine. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all...
"Selkies," Wren says softly, resigned, and it's not even to Alex, just to himself, to that part of him that was so pleased to share something Alex might be interested in. Of course the tales are common across cultures, if they're true. He feels so stupid right now. A child playing with something he doesn't understand, wishing to be something more than human. That stirs some anger in him too, the number of times his mother -- his best friend for his entire childhood -- told him his grandparents, their grandparents' stories, the whole time calling them tall tales.
But then, she didn't know they weren't. She couldn't have. Could she? It's so ridiculous, just a myth for most people -- she couldn't have known. God, he hopes she didn't.
He looks up, hating the way Alex sounds, the tentativeness Wren hasn't earned. And hating how lost he feels. "It's not up to me to be all right," he says, softly, certainly, and rubs his face. "I don't have the right to judge that. Who you are. What you can do, what you look like. That's you. That's part of who you are and that's who you get to be. Transforming -- it doesn't bother me. It's beautiful. But if it did -- would it change anything?" He almost doesn't want to know the answer to that. The idea that Alex would just have continued to hide if he didn't approve is horrible. He deserves better. Anyone does.
"But I wish I'd known. Alex, you could have told me. Before. Before I --" Before what? Before he cared? Before they kissed? Before he ever started talking? "God, I must have sounded so innocent and naive. My family, with all their silly, silly stories." He knows his voice is hardening a little and he can't stop it. He takes a breath, rinses the paint away, roughly, as he talks, not in the mood to think about how it felt laughing with Alex's handprint smeared over his heart. "How many times have I told you something about myself, things one or two or no other people know, and you're -- actually a -- a siren -- and not a word that it could be true, might mean something? Not even not saying anything, telling me you study myths. I learned more of the truth from Spencer -- "
He runs a hand through his hair. He shouldn't care so much. Alex shouldn't care so much. "I don't know," he says simply, and sighs. Right now nothing seems solid. Wren stares at the water for a long time before looking back up. "Tell me, at least, that what I chose to tell you was up to me," he says quietly. God, that's harsh, but right now he feels completely exposed.
The resigned look that came over Wren's features made Alex's heart break and he quickly changed from siren back into human form so he could be face to face with him. So he could better reassure him that what ever he was thinking wasn't true. Or at least, not exactly the truth the way he was thinking. Of all the reactions, he couldn't imagine a worse one. This was exactly why he'd never told anyone who hadn't already known.
And, while a part of his brain knew that Wren's feelings were justified, he couldn't help feeling hurt.
At Wren's question, Alex was speechless for a moment. It was a valid question, very valid. He looked down and away as he gave it the thought he deserved, suddenly more sober then ever. "I...I don't know if it would change anything. I've never done this before. Telling someone who didn't know. I know what I want, but just as you say it's not up to you to be alright, it's not up to me to determine how you feel about this. If it's too much...I guess I'd rather know now."
Then he raised his hands, hating how Wren was talking about himself. That couldn't be further from the truth! "No! I never thought you were innocent or naive. You were working with the knowledge you had and there is nothing trivial about that." He winced visibly as Wren's voice hardened and he wiped off the paint. He watched as the green paint ran down his chest and disappeared while he swallowed a lump in his throat. "I do study myths, as well as the truth. Not everything I told you about sirens and such is true. And how was I supposed to tell you? Would you have really believed me if I'd told you from the beginning? I needed to trust you first and now I do..." Surely Wren could understand that, right? This was a dangerous secret and in the right hands, could be fatal for Alex. He had to be sure.
At the last accusation, Alex violently recoiled away from Wren, almost as if he'd been hit. A hand went over his heart which was suddenly racing. This had clearly been a horrible mistake. "Of course it was! I would never violate someone's privacy like that! I don't...no decent siren would abuse their powers like that, not with people they care for!" Maybe this was why Alex was oblivious to caring about people...because it would lead to something like this. This was all his fault. "I know I made a mistake but I'd hope you knew me better then that."
Suddenly, Alex was aware he was naked and exposed. He would have laughed bitterly if he knew Wren felt the same. "I'm sorry Wren. I just...I'm sorry." He turned to the shore and towards where he'd tossed his clothes.
Wren blinks as Alex transforms; it's so sudden and complete that it would almost, but for this conversation, and the hurt expression on Alex's face, seem like a dream or a hallucination.
"This isn't too much. You. But not telling me, not even telling me these stories might exist...? I feel like I wasn't given a chance to know who it was I wanted to spend more time with, who I was saying things to. Just some slightly altered image of you, safer, more acceptable. That isn't fair to you, much less to me. How would you even know if I'd have believed you? Did you give me the chance?"
He runs a hand through his hair, leaving it wet and standing up. Alex trusts him, he's showing him something personal, secret, crazy: he can feel in his bones how awful he's being. But he can't shake how hurt he feels. To be this fucking vulnerable -- to have felt so comfortable sharing stories from his childhood, his wistful childhood wishes for his father -- doesn't Alex realize Wren has already trusted him more than he should have? He'd wanted to chip away Alex's careful exterior. Well, he'd gotten it. Shouldn't he be happy?
Wren hadn't meant the question to be as accusatory as it had come out, and Alex's recoil hits him like a punch. He can't say anything, as Alex berates him; he just feels awful. His betrayed anger reminds Wren far too much of Rian. Too much of the last time he'd cared too much, though the total wreck he'd made of that situation was more like burning down his own home. This is stomping on new growth. They're not the same, but both hurt.
"I-" he starts, but Alex is already stomping off towards shore and clothes, away from him. "Fuck." He lets him go. There's nothing to say.
He walks back and sits on the shore for a long time, watching the waves, before he makes his way home.
sirenstoryteller talking. Also, sorry about the tense-changing? Eh. This immediately follows the UV Rave.]The night had been exhilarating. While a small part of his mind felt guilty over utterly ditching his friends, the rest of him couldn't care less since he'd spent the majority of it dancing and drinking with Wren. Unlike in the middle of the pumpkin patch, the dark atmosphere and alcohol had lowered Alex's guard and he allowed him to get lost in the moment and the man beside him. Who he couldn't take his eyes or hands off of. Granted, it was nothing close to some of the displays he'd seen but it was bolder then he had been in ages.
Now, the night was almost passing into morning and they were both covered in multiple colors of paint. The party had grown stuffy from all the bodies so Alex had suggested going out to the shore to get some air and wash off in the ocean. So that's where they were, walking down to the shore despite the cooler temperatures.
--
Wren is in a better mood than he's almost willing to admit: for one of the few nights since getting here he's not thinking about anything but the moment and the man he's with. Not Rian and Lexi, not some work he should be doing or the secrets of this town.
Just dancing and touching, the beat of the bass, slick paint on skin and the grin it surprises to Alex's face, the warmth of him tugged close. (Well, maybe a few other things Wren would enjoy with him under his hands have crossed his mind.)
He's happy to get lost in it, and the suggestion of a swim is, if anything, better. The night's clear and cool on hot skin and he can hear the crash of waves as they draw closer.
"Hey," he says, leaning in lazily. "...Race you." He grins, kissing him and taking off down the beach.
It took a moment for Alex to concentrate again after the kiss but when he did, he grinned wildly and chased after him. His longer legs were an asset and he was able to catch up to the older man. With a laugh, he grabbed Wren around the waist and started tugging him towards the surf. "Water looks cold, want to find out?" He teased.
Wren laughs as Alex grabs him, letting himself be pulled: he fights back just a little, more out of the principle of the thing than any real reluctance.
"Oh no, not the water, anything but that," he teases back and twists in Alex's grasp to tangle them further so they both tumble down into the surf.
Laughter begets laughter and Alex was gasping for breath between giggles. They crash into the water, Alex's back hitting first as he holds tightly onto Wren to make sure he couldn't wiggle away. The water isn't very deep at this point so he got his legs under him so he had support to steal a kiss without drowning.
Then he let go and laid back to float in the water with a soft sigh. As a siren, being in his home waters was always relaxing, almost on a spiritual level. He was already bursting with happiness after the fun night and the water only turned it into pure bliss. And he was very happy to have someone to share it with. Maybe he could share the blissful feeling too. In his drunk way, there was only one way to do that and it involved with taking his shirt off for a start...
Wren laughs, splashing down into the water, letting Alex tug him. The water feels like it should be freezing, but he doesn't really notice it, pressing both hands to Alex's face to kiss him back before letting him go.
He watches Alex's face, whole body relax as he floats back and can't help smiling at his contented expression. After the stories and songs they'd exchanged, there's something that seems right about sharing a moment in the water.
Wren ducks under to get himself used to the cold and swims deeper, surfacing next to Alex with a shake of his head, licking salt from his lips. "Hey gorgeous," he says as if there's nothing to it, "this was a good idea."
In a moment, Wren was going to see just how right it was.
Even as intoxicated as he was, Alex still found it in himself to flush at being called gorgeous. He's not self conscious, it's just wasn't something he heard very often. Once he pulled his shirt and over shirt over his head, he leaned over to kiss Wren tenderly. "Someone entrancing inspired me. And now I want to show you something..."
He pushed the other away lightly so he could remove his shoes and pants, bundling them together with his shirts, before tossing the whole thing back to shore. Wren was treated to a quick wink and sly grin. "Watch this."
Taking a deep breath, he laid back in the water again, thankfully drunk enough not to worry about his nakedness in front of someone else. It wasn't like those parts were going to be there for long. With his eyes closed, Alex felt for the siren part of him and let it free. In a blur of a moment, his lower half was gone, replaced by that of a Leopard Shark. The spots and stripes stopped at his waist in the front but behind they came up to decorate the dorsal fin that sat in the small of his back. They also decorated the back and sides of his forearms, where small fins had sprout facing outward. The coloration was also evidenced in his blond curls, which were now dappled with blacks and browns. Once the transformation was complete, he righted himself in the water and splashed Wren playfully with his tail, grinning a smile that was now composed of sharp shark's teeth. Even not intoxicated, he was proud of his siren form and desperately wanted to show off for this man he was growing to care for.
He swam around Wren in lazily circles before surfacing near him. "What do you think?"
Wren kisses him back, lingering a little. Though, there's a small part of him that raises a yellow flag at being called entrancing, and at the way he's a little self-satisfied about making Alex blush by calling him gorgeous (and yet thinks it shouldn't be surprising to hear). Wren can't help always jumping to the part where it ruins their friendship, or it gets boring for someone, or someone wants him to change more than he's willing to, or all of the above). He's not someone who falls in love. He's not someone you fall in love with.
But right now this feels good, right, and he's intent on letting it for a little while longer.
"All right," he smiles with a raised eyebrow as Alex undresses, grinning as he looks him over.
Whatever he was expecting, it isn't what happens next: the blur of movement as legs transform into a long tail, dappled with spots and stripes that climbed into a fin at his back. Wren freezes, breath caught in his throat as Alex - still himself, and completely different as well - turns over to grin a startling sharp-toothed grin, splashing at him. He's never seen anything like it. He'd been told -- Spencer had told him there was magic here. He'd dropped the word sirens. But somehow shapeshifting --
He and Alex have talked about shapeshifting, about mermaids and sirens and selkies, about legends, always about mythology. They've kissed and laughed and talked about their families. About his mother's family, about Alex's brothers. But not this. He's never implied that what he studies is the truth of shapeshifting, that he knows about it from experience. Maybe that's frightening. But what about trusting someone isn't? What about any of this isn't frightening?
He reaches, stunned still, to touch his waist where it slides from skin to tail, the texture changing under his fingers to a shark's skin; he knows if he were to brush upward it would be sharp. "It's beautiful," he says, "you're beautiful," because that's true and Wren doesn't lie even when he's caught off guard, and then, "You didn't tell me."
It wasn't exactly the easiest thing to reveal, despite Alex having grown up completely at ease with what he was. As he had found around the world, that wasn't always true. In Siren Cove, it was the worst kept secret in the world so he'd never had to be careful. But he had quickly realized that it was much easier to get access to archives and sources when he treated his heritage as a myth, a story, rather then true. In truth, Alex was doing two very different veins of research in one: the heritage of his people and the stories through which the rest of the world knew them.
So his siren self had turned from an open secret to a closely guarded one. It was yet another reason in the long list of why Alex hadn't felt the strong need from a relationship. How does one bring up the fact they are actually a mythical creature who is half shark? It really spoke to Alex's comfort level with Wren that he felt safe enough to reveal this about himself, especially given his suspicions that Wren was a siren himself. Though being intoxicated did not hurt.
Still, even sober he wouldn't regret this decision. He did trust Wren and it was about time he showed him how much.
"Thank you. I'm not as big as my brothers but I'm more colorful." Even in his siren form, Alex blushed as he was called beautiful and splashed Wren lightly as a sign of affection. He let Wren touch as much as he wanted, glad he didn't seem to warn about his shark skin being sharp. He knew Wren would take to his other form. "It's not exactly the easiest subject to bring up," he then admitted softly.
Wren can't help but smile a little at Alex's self-description, even though he still doesn't know what to think. He knows it's a privilege, he can tell from his tone that this is something he's been holding back and he knows that he ought to feel glad that he feels safe telling Wren the truth.
Maybe it's that he wanted him to already feel safe. Or be willing to not be completely safe, maybe, because life isn't safe, people aren't safe, honesty is as good as you can get and sometimes the truth can be terribly dangerous, and maybe that's what it is: that he feels exposed. That's not fair. Every step of this is more dangerous for Alex and he knows that. That's half the problem, he's half the problem.
Whatever it is, though, he can't help feeling unsettled, like the rug's been pulled out from under him. Wren feels a little bit like he must seem like an idiot to Alex. Rambling on about his family as he has, their stories, their collection of mystical tales. And then - what he's been wondering ever since Spencer told him that magic is real, what he's been holding onto, the doubts about what he's been told, who he is --
"So are you -- " What are you is just the worst phrasing ever, it's nothing Wren could say to someone, much less someone he cares about. "The stories about the sirens, the mermaids --" He takes a long breath. "They're real."
Even as intoxicated as he was, Alex could feel the uncertainty pouring off Wren as the silence grew between them. He moved to tread water in front of where Wren stood, his tail gently swishing against the other's legs as he kept his upper body afloat.
Wren may not have said it but Alex heard it in his voice. He bit his lower lip and frowned, looking down at the water guilty. "Yes. It's all true. I don't only study myths...I study the history of my people. I'm a siren, mermaids can't change into a human. Selkies are real too." He licked his lips hesitantly before he asked in a soft voice, "Wren? Are you alright? With...with all this?" Suddenly, fear started to crawl down his spine. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all...
"Selkies," Wren says softly, resigned, and it's not even to Alex, just to himself, to that part of him that was so pleased to share something Alex might be interested in. Of course the tales are common across cultures, if they're true. He feels so stupid right now. A child playing with something he doesn't understand, wishing to be something more than human. That stirs some anger in him too, the number of times his mother -- his best friend for his entire childhood -- told him his grandparents, their grandparents' stories, the whole time calling them tall tales.
But then, she didn't know they weren't. She couldn't have. Could she? It's so ridiculous, just a myth for most people -- she couldn't have known. God, he hopes she didn't.
He looks up, hating the way Alex sounds, the tentativeness Wren hasn't earned. And hating how lost he feels. "It's not up to me to be all right," he says, softly, certainly, and rubs his face. "I don't have the right to judge that. Who you are. What you can do, what you look like. That's you. That's part of who you are and that's who you get to be. Transforming -- it doesn't bother me. It's beautiful. But if it did -- would it change anything?" He almost doesn't want to know the answer to that. The idea that Alex would just have continued to hide if he didn't approve is horrible. He deserves better. Anyone does.
"But I wish I'd known. Alex, you could have told me. Before. Before I --" Before what? Before he cared? Before they kissed? Before he ever started talking? "God, I must have sounded so innocent and naive. My family, with all their silly, silly stories." He knows his voice is hardening a little and he can't stop it. He takes a breath, rinses the paint away, roughly, as he talks, not in the mood to think about how it felt laughing with Alex's handprint smeared over his heart. "How many times have I told you something about myself, things one or two or no other people know, and you're -- actually a -- a siren -- and not a word that it could be true, might mean something? Not even not saying anything, telling me you study myths. I learned more of the truth from Spencer -- "
He runs a hand through his hair. He shouldn't care so much. Alex shouldn't care so much. "I don't know," he says simply, and sighs. Right now nothing seems solid. Wren stares at the water for a long time before looking back up. "Tell me, at least, that what I chose to tell you was up to me," he says quietly. God, that's harsh, but right now he feels completely exposed.
The resigned look that came over Wren's features made Alex's heart break and he quickly changed from siren back into human form so he could be face to face with him. So he could better reassure him that what ever he was thinking wasn't true. Or at least, not exactly the truth the way he was thinking. Of all the reactions, he couldn't imagine a worse one. This was exactly why he'd never told anyone who hadn't already known.
And, while a part of his brain knew that Wren's feelings were justified, he couldn't help feeling hurt.
At Wren's question, Alex was speechless for a moment. It was a valid question, very valid. He looked down and away as he gave it the thought he deserved, suddenly more sober then ever. "I...I don't know if it would change anything. I've never done this before. Telling someone who didn't know. I know what I want, but just as you say it's not up to you to be alright, it's not up to me to determine how you feel about this. If it's too much...I guess I'd rather know now."
Then he raised his hands, hating how Wren was talking about himself. That couldn't be further from the truth! "No! I never thought you were innocent or naive. You were working with the knowledge you had and there is nothing trivial about that." He winced visibly as Wren's voice hardened and he wiped off the paint. He watched as the green paint ran down his chest and disappeared while he swallowed a lump in his throat. "I do study myths, as well as the truth. Not everything I told you about sirens and such is true. And how was I supposed to tell you? Would you have really believed me if I'd told you from the beginning? I needed to trust you first and now I do..." Surely Wren could understand that, right? This was a dangerous secret and in the right hands, could be fatal for Alex. He had to be sure.
At the last accusation, Alex violently recoiled away from Wren, almost as if he'd been hit. A hand went over his heart which was suddenly racing. This had clearly been a horrible mistake. "Of course it was! I would never violate someone's privacy like that! I don't...no decent siren would abuse their powers like that, not with people they care for!" Maybe this was why Alex was oblivious to caring about people...because it would lead to something like this. This was all his fault. "I know I made a mistake but I'd hope you knew me better then that."
Suddenly, Alex was aware he was naked and exposed. He would have laughed bitterly if he knew Wren felt the same. "I'm sorry Wren. I just...I'm sorry." He turned to the shore and towards where he'd tossed his clothes.
Wren blinks as Alex transforms; it's so sudden and complete that it would almost, but for this conversation, and the hurt expression on Alex's face, seem like a dream or a hallucination.
"This isn't too much. You. But not telling me, not even telling me these stories might exist...? I feel like I wasn't given a chance to know who it was I wanted to spend more time with, who I was saying things to. Just some slightly altered image of you, safer, more acceptable. That isn't fair to you, much less to me. How would you even know if I'd have believed you? Did you give me the chance?"
He runs a hand through his hair, leaving it wet and standing up. Alex trusts him, he's showing him something personal, secret, crazy: he can feel in his bones how awful he's being. But he can't shake how hurt he feels. To be this fucking vulnerable -- to have felt so comfortable sharing stories from his childhood, his wistful childhood wishes for his father -- doesn't Alex realize Wren has already trusted him more than he should have? He'd wanted to chip away Alex's careful exterior. Well, he'd gotten it. Shouldn't he be happy?
Wren hadn't meant the question to be as accusatory as it had come out, and Alex's recoil hits him like a punch. He can't say anything, as Alex berates him; he just feels awful. His betrayed anger reminds Wren far too much of Rian. Too much of the last time he'd cared too much, though the total wreck he'd made of that situation was more like burning down his own home. This is stomping on new growth. They're not the same, but both hurt.
"I-" he starts, but Alex is already stomping off towards shore and clothes, away from him. "Fuck." He lets him go. There's nothing to say.
He walks back and sits on the shore for a long time, watching the waves, before he makes his way home.
