Everything seems more vibrant above the surface, in a way. Under the sea things seem to flow and float and drift by at their own pace, smooth and uninterrupted. Up here, though - up here, everything clashes and pushes and it's all so heavy. Sounds are louder and light is brighter and everything is hotter, and there's an intensity to movement that I couldn't have imagined in the ocean.
The carriage wheels rattle underneath us as we bump along the road, the horses hooves clattering against the cobblestones, the wind tugging at the bow in my hair and threatening to set it free. My feet ache and my chest feels awfully constricted by the stiff corset wrapped around my middle (Whale bone!I silently shrieked the first time I was laced into one, wondering if their production tortured the whales as much as wearing them tortured me.) My eyelids are drooping, even as I fight to keep them open, to take in every single tiny detail of the human world around me. The novelty of the kingdom hasn't worn off yet, but it seems that all of my running around has taken its toll.
Your large hand is warm clasped around my small, delicate ones protectively, as though you can sense my weariness. Your skin is tanned from your time in the sun, calloused from knotting ropes and steering wooden wheels, but as I left my eyes drift shut I think of how steady and sure your hands are. They know exactly how to steer a ship peacefully along the currents of the sea, how to secure ropes and how to dance lightly over your flute as you purse your lips to produce beautiful melodies. They have other talents, too; like caressing the soft skin of my legs, tracing patterns from my toes up to my very core, pulling sensual moans from the back of my throat, producing the most primal of sensations, evoking desires I've never felt before. You painstakingly tie knots in my centre and then expertly unravel them in a tidal wave of pleasure. Here in the carriage I squeeze your hand, but in my memory I clutch at the sheets of our bed, arch my back and urge your skilled fingers deeper.
The sound of the castle gates opening makes my eyelids flutter, and I see you watching me intently. I lean forward and press my open mouth to yours urgently, desperate to feel you against me. It seems I'm more adept at silently passing on messages now than I was when we first met - or perhaps my methods of communication are more to the point now - because when we part I'm certain I can see the fire I feel in my stomach reflected in your eyes.
Yes, everything is more vibrant here than under the sea, but that just makes it all the more amazing.