Summer for Dude

[p]A merman and a wood nymph. Unlikely lovers whose short-lived passion gave birth to the ultimate figure of love, lust and loss.

[p]Summer knew nothing of his heritage. His blood quickens and he rises from slumber as the subtle green of spring gives way to the vibrant hues of true summer. He would rise from the depths of the sea, his body slipping into the familiar form of a surfer bronzed by the sun. In times of old, he might have easily been mistaken for some unknown son of Triton abandoning the underwater kingdom to walk among mere mortals. In the modern era, he's merely another regular on the beach. Gorgeous and mysterious yet able to blend.

[p]He avoids the more family-friendly zones, never having been a fan of large groups of people. The search for love is rarely encouraged among the guardians of screaming toddlers. He prefers the lesser-known stretches of sand where the lonely are most likely to stand and whisper their heart's deepest desires to the vast stretches of ocean. The sea does not judge one's guilty secrets but listens impartially.

[p]He sees a likely candidate. A man with hair as dark as squid ink and eyes the gray of a storm cloud. Summer finds the rhythm of a gentle wave, showing off his skill and trying to capture the stranger's attention.

[p]He succeeds.

[p]Their talk is shallow at first. Mutual compliments. Comments on the weather. Questions of subtle curiosity. What's your favorite color? (Blue.) Do you have any hobbies? (I collect seashells. I find the patterns soothing.) Do you come here often? (More than I care to admit.)

[p]Talk leads to a sunset stroll. He loves how the colors of day's end blend together, covering the spectrum from buttery gold to deep indigo. The warmth of a new partner's hand is a thrill that makes his heart swell. They go for a drink - he's partial to a mai tai with one of those little umbrellas.

[p]The gentle brush of fingers on his cheek has warning bells clamoring. He is stiff when his potential partner moves in for a kiss. The stranger realizes his mistake too late but the damage is done. As much as summer craves this heartfelt intimacy, he also loathes it.

[p]They have a few more dates but both know this relationship is going nowhere.

[p]One week later, he finds a new stretch of beach with the dawn, ready to begin his search anew.

[p]The new candidate has blonde hair that falls in curls to his shoulders. He loves to watch the waves and feed the seabirds but has never tried to surf in his life. Summer is patient, guiding him through the process. The man's name is Steve. He is an oceanographer but hates to admit to anyone that he's a poor swimmer. Summer takes to the water like a fish...though he can hardly admit it's more than natural talent.

[p]For six glorious weeks they surf and explore the shallows. Steve senses his partner's reluctance. His touches are nearly as shy as Summer's. Hope bubbles in Summer's chest. Could Steve finally be the one to break the ocean's hold? Could be finally be free to see the autumn leaves and the bitter winds of winter?

[p]When the time finally comes for rose petals and a candlelit dinner, the flight instinct once again possesses him. This is the closest he's come since that first boy, the one who nearly got him into bed. Antonio. How he loved Antonio...until love's demand became too great a burden to bear.

[p]He makes his excuses, promising to pick them up a bottle of fine wine. Steve is oblivious to his real reasons. He does not return.

[p]So the pattern continues until summer's conclusion, always a new flirt who can never stake a claim without activating that animal part of him that refuses to be tied down.

[p]He is always a summer lover. Love is fleeting yet each brief and blissful span of time leaves another scar on his weary heart. As fall closes in, he returns to the depths of the sea, answering the call of that underwater presence that both frees and imprisons him.

[p]Story by [user=Pureflower]