Our turn against the gods wasn't accidental. It is only so long one can be seen as simply desirable. An object for entertainment. Make a tree. Pleasure the higher beings. Hide from humans. It was exhausting, and I didn't know how much until the day I met him. — Excerpt from a long-forgotten diary

***

I sigh when I walk into my room in building 14 on the first floor. So this is 1402, a 635-square-foot room including the balcony or patio. Mine would be considered modest. It can partially see the waves while mostly staring at the adults mulling around the pool. There is nothing like watching pale, rich people and elves burn from the seat of luxury.

The room looks exactly like the pictures. It has a queen-sized bed with a small couch next to it. The TV I will never use faces the bed. Straight ahead, two glass sliding doors lead out onto a small table and two lounge chairs. I turn to see a bathroom with a shower and bathtub. A small door to the right opens to the toilet.

So, this is how rich creatures live. It isn't that bad.

I walk to the closet and open the doors to find my luggage waiting. This lazy living is beginning to speak to my soul, but then those swirling eyes.

"No, no," I chide myself. "This is vacationing. I am paying myself to relax using PTO. I cannot waste my own time and money by finding a project. Just download a book. Put on a bikini. Order a cocktail. Go find flowers for rejuvenation since Mister Attention Seeker made me use my magic."

To feel better, I walk over to the paper pad on the side table and write down my list. I need a clear idea of what is to come, a way to balance my human and nymph blood. Thankfully, my nymph blood is diluted with human blood. So, I just need time with flowers to be at peace. Not to actually become a flower like some of the other Anthousai require.

"Oh," I sigh. "Almost forgot."

I added hydration and sunscreen to my list, but it was out of order. I removed the paper and wrote a new list with the correct order. There is no need for someone to think I'm a complete idiot who doesn't know how to order events properly.

"Right?" I chuckle to myself.

The room's emptiness echoes my failed attempt at humor in my ears. I hang my head in shame and drag my feet to the bed, falling face down into its softness.

"Why is it so hard for me to be human?" I scream into the covers, banging fists into the soft duvet cover. The thread count had to be at least 350.

I groan and roll over. "I can do this. My mother balanced her time and had an even stronger draw to her calling."

So much of a calling, she now lives half of her life as a tree in the mountains. It could also be her way of dealing with the trauma of my father's abrupt passing.

I unconsciously finger one of the petals on my lei. A tingling starts at my scalp.

"Shit," I mutter to myself and look in the mirror.

One of my brown curls is now a white and purple petal to match my lei. The strand of flowers drops to the floor on instinct. Walking to the doors, I open them widely and breathe in the sea air.

It isn't that I hate my nymph blood. I just don't like randomly turning into a flower, tree, or puddle of water when emotionally rattled. That loss of myself as nature overwhelmed me. A long-forgotten magical bond brought about by those who made us. Taunted us. Played with us. It first seeped from my blood when I was four years old. My dad told me I couldn't have ice cream for dessert. I built myself into such a fit that my arms became stems. Through my continued sobs, my parents gushed. Through my helplessness to the breeze, they called me beautiful. Through some untold bond, I saw the silver strands vanish beyond a veil.

"Another deep breath," I mutter to myself, focusing on the humans wandering around the pool outside.

The tingling sensation leaves my scalp, dissipating into my spine. I reach up to finger the strands of my hair again with a relieved sigh.

"Back to vacationing," I smile and close the balcony doors.

Fifteen minutes later, I've decided on the perfect swimsuit for my first day. Also, a coverup that is somewhere between fun and functional. I tilt the large brim of my beach hat and walk back into the room to grab my bag, already filled with a bottle of water (hydrate, check), tablet (download book, check) and my key (regain entry to the room—shit, add it to the list, now—check).

When I open my door, sunlight, the smell of tropical flowers, and the musk scent of magic assault my senses. My eyes venture up the metal stairs to see a door closing above mine, the faint golden hue dying behind its maker.

"Great," I mutter and walk away.

That man is going to be staying close to my door. Does that mean I will get to hear his conquests? This is a nice hotel. So, the walls should be thick enough. Maybe I can just increase my alcohol budget for a nice induced sleep. I could even let myself drink the flowers today.

A slow grin spreads across my face, thinking about the last time I indulged. It was when I was still at the academy. Safe to say, it was one of the most fun nights of my life. Sadly, it also ended up causing some of my classmates to hallucinate because of the sprouts I grew. Then, I got in trouble for growing hallucinogenics, and being in the nymph class of mystical creatures wasn't considered protection enough from the repercussions.

Thankfully, now, I'm in better control of myself. It's not like that golden thread guy running around, flaunting their disregard for their effects on humans. I can drink a bit of floral essence and not lose control until I wake up with a harem again tomorrow.

But part of vacationing as a human does mean a fling, my mind argues. A harmless, don't think about it again fling. Is there anyone worth that time here?

I scan the pool area and sigh. The large oblong pool dropped to a view of rolling waves. People swam from the bar to the hot tub, talking in hushed and non-so-hushed voices. Behind the pool, two rows of white chaise beds divided into pairs underneath umbrellas with a small table between them. The five to six pairs of couples had already taken some of the beds. Others were reserved by pairs of sunglasses and drinks on the table. Maybe they belonged to the five men hanging out in the pool or the four women eyeing the men. They all seemed to be looking for a fling.

Ugh, so much work to decide on a fling; I will need to add analysis time to my list. Then, create a spreadsheet based on my observations. The pros and cons of every possible person can be calculated before making my approach. I could make it easier. Drop my own wards. Let them see me a little bit more. Attract the bugs to the Venus trap like in the days of old.

My eyes move past the people to a small hut on the other side of the pool. A few pool attendants are underneath, stacking towels and, more importantly, large canisters of suntan lotion. I sidestep some sandals on my way to the hut. Suntan lotion is most definitely on the list for today.

I pick up a small plastic container and fill it with a white liquid that smells like coconut. One of the attendants with a name tag that reads Lana glances at me and smiles.

"Do you want a chaise bed?" Lana asks.

"Yes, please," I smile. "Maybe that one over on the end where it doesn't seem too busy."

Lana nods her head. "Last name and room number?"

She jots down my response in a notepad before grabbing some towels and motioning for me to follow her. I drop my bag between the two beds as Lana dresses them with a towel.

"Here is the menu, and I will go get you some water."

I smile and thank her before plopping down on a towel. The next half an hour is a blur of putting on suntan lotion, ordering a mai tai, and reading. My afternoon could have continued in such a blur if a shadow hadn't blocked my sun.

"Is this seat taken?" A male voice asks.

I glance up to meet his lapis blue eyes and sigh. "Yes."

"It doesn't look taken," he mutters.

The hat, hiding his black locks, suggests he's trying to hide. But from whom?

I glance at the bed and back to him, "he will be back in a few minutes."

"Oh," he pouts.

If I was fully human, that facial expression may have been enough to make me break. But, alas, I am not. And this lapis-eyed male is handsome trouble.

"I think they can help you find somewhere else," I smile sweetly, motioning towards Lana.

He crosses his arms and tilts his head, not even turning to follow the motion of my hand. I can feel his assessment of me, magic licking at my skin and at the roots of my hair. On instinct, I pull the silver wall down. Lapis eyes glance at the bed again with a smirk.

"Sorry, friend," he says, kicking his sandals under the bed and lying down. "I will move when you get back."

"Rude," I mutter, turning back to my book.

"Zale," he responds. "My name is Zale."

"Mmhmm," I acknowledge, grabbing my mai tai.

The chaise bed creaks underneath his shifting weight. "What's your name?"

I glance at him and then shift my eyes to see the group of four women slowly moving toward us in the pool. Two women glancing at us while sipping their drinks, water rippling around them as they move in our direction.

A slurping sound caused me to stop drinking and pout at the now-empty drink. I place it down between us.

"You do realize that I sat here to be alone?"

Zale smirks. "I have it on high authority that I am great company. Do you want another?"

He turns, motioning for Lana to have two more drinks, and she nods. I tilt my head in wonder at this guy's blatant disregard. Zale's eyebrows knit together at the way my face must have contorted into a scoff.

"Is that before or after you use your charms?" I whisper.

Zale smirks, considering his thoughts as he fidgets lightly with his glasses. "Some men can't help but be charming."

I pull my sunglasses down to meet his eyes. "Some men aren't just men."

"I—"

"Excuse me," a lady in a pink bikini asks.

I immediately recognized her as a woman from the group who had been watching them. Apparently, she was the bravest of her friends to make it over here.

"Yes?" Zale turns his full attention to her.

"Are you Zale Florimonte?"

"I am," he smiles.

"Oh my gosh!" She gushes, glancing back at her friends to nod enthusiastically. "I just loved you in The Longest Kiss."

I raise an eyebrow as the exchange extends. Zale poses for a picture while sidestepping any questions about his "latest projects." Part of me wants to leave, but the other part wants to stay stubborn. These are my seats. I marked these two with my stuff. He should go and take his little fan club with him.

"Sorry to cut this short," Zale says. "But, I'm here trying to relax. Do you mind leaving us be?"

"Oh my gosh," the woman gasps, looking at Paige and then back to Zale. "I'm so sorry to interrupt your downtime with your girlfriend, who is absolutely stunning, by the way—"

"I'm not—"

"She's just modest about her looks," Zale interrupts me while placing a hand on my leg. "Thank you for understanding our need for privacy."

My eyes widen, and I slap his hand with a wave of silver energy. His fingers flex upward before giving my leg a light squeeze. I slap his side with another wave of energy.

"Of course! It was nice meeting you," the woman smiles, waving lightly. She pauses and turns. "And I'll be sure no one else bothers you."

"Thank you," Zale gasps, waiting until her back is turned to remove his hand. "Shit woman," he mutters. "I knew you were powerful, but damn."

"You shouldn't touch me without asking," I hiss.

Lana places the drinks between us.

"Put these on my room. Florimonte, room 1401." Zale picks up a drink. "Sorry about that. I just didn't want them to linger any longer."

I shake my head. "I'm on vacation and don't need—"

"Me too!" Zale smiles. "Cheers!"

He holds his glass up, staring at me momentarily, looking between me and the glass.

"Come on," he sighs. "Let's just have this one drink. I just wanted to talk to the woman from the lobby who could throw down a shield. Nothing more."

Part of vacationing is talking to random people and getting hit on by annoying ones.

"Fine," I sigh and pick up my drink. "Cheers," I mutter, meeting his glass in midair.

The annoying man with lapis eyes smiles at me, and, for some odd reason, I genuinely smile back. Two rounds later, we stroll away from the pool to find dinner. Then, two hours after that, I sit in my room, researching him on the Internet.

Zale Florimonte is a 32-year-old actor. Born of human and mystical creature heritage, Zale is now one of the most sought-after leading men in Hollywood. I stop reading the website and sigh. His last two movies were hits. Before that, he just did some small theatre work. He is a rising star with a sparse history and little to no drama. He has just a following.

Maybe he is the perfect fling for a vacation? I grab the notepad and begin to list the pros and cons.

***

Word Count: 2,333

Total Word Count: 5,032