Kias is not overly fond of fish. Actually, he doesn't much like it at all -- not catching the slimy creatures, not cleaning them, and certainly not eating them. It makes him feel a bit like a cannibal, eating fish. Which is ridiculous, but there it is.

Unfortunately, the fruits and nuts they gathered in the Eyene island chain only went so far, and Kias had to fish for their dinner tonight. It's his own fault for dropping anchor in the middle of the open sea -- but there's a point to being here. He smiles faintly at the thought, scraping little fish bones into the sink. A breeze drifts through the gauzy curtains that surround his karif, lifting gooseflesh on skin still damp from swimming. This body holds water like a cloud.

Kias puts his plate atop Yesmine's in the sink once he's scraped it clean and makes his way around the low bamboo counter, returning to the square back of the medium-sized pleasure boat. The karif originally belonged to some Corsaih noblewoman who didn't think it behooved her to actually swim from place to place--despite being a sea creature--but it's Kias' now, and he quite enjoys the luxuries it offers. When the curtains are all tied up, it's entirely open to the sea on all sides save for the pillars holding up the delicately arched roof, but at the moment most of the curtains are down, giving some small semblance of containment -- save at the stern, where Yesmine is sitting on one of the long, low couches built into the side of the boat. One elbow rests on the back of the couch, her legs are folded beneath her, and her gaze is lost somewhere in that water. He's noticed that she tends to stare at it whenever anything else isn't holding her attention.

Kias steps around the low table that stretches down the middle between the couches and sinks into the plush, tan leather near Yesmine, flinging an arm over the side of the boat. The sun is beginning to set, haloing the clouds in rubies and amethysts and fire opals. The sea glimmers near-silver around them. Kias' focus, however, is on Yesmine -- and the tiny little dress she's thrown on over her still-wet black bikini. It's nearly as sheer as the pale peach curtains surrounding his boat, made up of white diamond-shaped panels over black fabric. And with the way she's sitting, it's hitched halfway to her waist, ridden up over one hip completely.

His eyes slide to her face when she turns to look at him, a bright smile lighting her hazel eyes. "Thank you, today has been fun."

She's said that every day for the past four months. Kias just gives her a small grin and agrees, "Yeah. It has." She smiles again and goes back to watching the sea, chin resting on her fist. Kias watches the white-gold sun drift lower, staining the gray-blue sky in gemstone shades. His eyes, accustomed to the depths of the sea, catch glimmers and flickers deep in the waters off the port side. He smiles faintly and leans toward the table, picking up the glass he left there -- half full of a clear, moderately strong liquor he picked up on the far side of the Belt a few months ago. He can't remember what it's called, but he rather likes it -- though it's a bit dry in its aftertaste, which he could do without.

They watch the sunset in peaceful, companionable silence. Yesmine leans against the back of the couch like she's gradually melting, the length of the day catching up to her. Kias doesn't blame her; they explored an entire island chain in just three days. And not half an hour ago they were splashing in the water off the bow. The memory of that reminds Kias of the slick feel of her skin under his fingers, the warmth of her near him with the thrum of salt in his blood and mouth...

He shakes off the thought and takes a drink to combat the sudden dryness of his tongue. Four months they've been traveling Keluth in his boat, ever since he ran into her on the chain near Kalathe's resort. Four months in which it's become increasingly apparent that Yesmine grew into a beautiful woman somewhere in the last ten thousand years. She's not the gangly fifteen-year-old he first met.

And he liked her even then. Which makes things slightly complicated. Kias takes a sip of his drink, eyes drifting over her.

The little notebook in which she's been documenting everything is tucked safely into her side, already well-worn by her hands and the salt air. Kias doesn't quite understand its purpose--something about her brother not liking to travel--but she handles the thing like it's made of gold.

Considering what's in it, Kias doesn't blame her for that, either. He dabbles in cartography, but her maps and drawings are on an entirely different level. Which makes sense, as it's her gods-Fae Gift -- creativity. If he didn't like her so much, he might bother to snitch it and see what sorts of pretty pennies he could get for it on the black market.

He takes another drink and turns his attention off the stern, watching little wavelets lap at the sides of the karif. The sky turns indigo and slate as the sun dips beyond the horizon, all those brilliant colors fading to reveal a steadily-growing swath if multi-colored stars. But before the lights of the stars grow too bright, the real show begins.

Kias grins faintly as he spies the first soas arcing toward the surface of the water. They glow brilliantly, little streaks of blue and amethyst light. He leans past Yesmine to point them out, his arm brushing her shoulder.

"Look," he murmurs, his finger following the path. Yesmine turns to look, and her expression fills with wonder when she spots the tiny fish. She leans over the side of the boat, hands braced on the edge, her mouth forming a small O shape. More and more soas race toward the surface, until the colors flicker and dance in the water for as far as Kias can see in any direction. He intentionally put them right in the center of the deep-sea reef, just for this. For the expression on her face right now--wonder and excitement and amazement--as the tiny, winged sea creatures arc out of the water.

"What are they?" Yesmine breathes, eyes riveted on the glowfish leaping and frolicking in and above the waves.

"Soas," Kias says, grinning faintly. The fish are every shade of blue and purple and orange, their flickering lights dancing over the boat and the curtains and Yesmine's face. "They're deep-sea bioluminescents. They're native to undersea reefs, and they come to the surface every night for one week of the year."

Yesmine has her journal in her hands, colored pencils flying as she sketches the tiny glowfish, scrawling words in the margins to describe what he's telling her. "They're amazing," she breathes. "Why do they come up only at night? And only for one week of the year?"

Kias sits back a little, still closer to her than he was before, one elbow resting on the edge of the boat as he watches the soas arc into the air. Their tiny wings unfurl like great sails, rotating so quickly that they blur, keeping them afloat for a few seconds before their lights wink out and they drop into the sea again.

"They're deep-sea dwellers," he says quietly. "Sunlight is too harsh for them, they'd burn up. As for this week," he smirks faintly, "it's their mating season. They come to the surface because the warmer water is ideal for it."

Yesmine, as always, is fascinated. She continues scribbling in her journal, firing questions almost too quickly for Kias to answer -- what are their habits, are they sapient, what's their anatomy, what do they eat, what's their primary habitat, what causes them to glow... she goes on and on, as she always does about every new thing she sees. Kias leans both arms on the edge of the boat, watching the soas sparkle and fade. Sometimes he's surprised by just how many questions Yesmine can ask in one sitting. Most people would be too busy watching the fish to be talking.

He answers to the best of his ability, though. He doesn't know a lot of the more specific information -- this is a pretty spot, not a science fair. He doesn't much care about the fish themselves. And at the moment he's distracted by the play of light on her skin and the fact that that little dress and bathing suit are clinging to her thanks to the salt spray and the way she's leaning over the edge of the karif.

She alights on her millionth question--something about what trace elements their scales are made of, something Kias has no way of knowing--looking like she's about to fall over the side thanks to how close she's trying to get to the water.

"Yesmine," he says, somewhat wryly. She makes a questioning sound, still trying to get a closer look at the fish. "You're going to fall in."

Yesmine turns to face him, rocking the boat as she sits up. Her eyes light up as if she just got an awesome idea. "Ooh, can we go swimming with them?"

"They're mating down there," Kias says dryly. "You want to swim in that?"

Yesmine turns crimson. Though it wasn't Kias' intention, he's not complaining.

"Right... never mind..." she mutters, sounding awkward now. She rambles into more questions -- something about their fins and their gender differences. Kias grins wryly and turns, looking out the other side of the boat.

"I have no idea, Mina," he says, resting his head against the back of the couch. The soas' light glimmers against the delicate under-arch of the ceiling. They'll be on the surface for a couple of hours yet.

Yesmine turns as well, sitting down next to him. She puts the journal on the table. "I ask too many questions, don't I?" she asks, somewhat sheepishly.

Kias lets out a breath in some semblance of a laugh. "Sometimes," he agrees. "I don't mind. I just don't know the answers."

Yesmine offers him a half-smile. "It's okay, I'll just... watch... silently..."

Kias turns his head to see her better, still leaning comfortably against the back of the couch. Her body is turned toward him, her knees still tucked halfway beneath her. One shoulder is pressed against the backrest, her hands folded in her lap. She's gilded in the multicolored lights coming from the sea, copper hair unbound and pouring over her shoulders in loose, damp waves. With that look on her face, and the lights, and that little bitty dress...

Kias wishes he had some of that liquor left to wet his mouth.

"Sorry," he says, looking up at her, his tone caught between apologetic and distractedly soft.

Yesmine shakes her head, plucking nervously at her own fingers. "No, you don't have to be sorry, I do. I talk too much, when I usually should just be quiet and not ask questions. But I have never really been able to learn when to just... not ask questions, and when to ask them, so I just tend to--"

"Mina," Kias says, a bit of laughter in his voice. He lifts a hand to brush his thumb across her cheek -- his own too-long fingers, indigo skin dark against her tan face. "It's all right." He's distracted by the smoothness of her cheek, the curve of her cheekbones, the line of her mouth so close...

He feels her eyes boring into him and snaps his gaze back to hers.

She doesn't say anything. And Kias doesn't say anything. The world is the splash of water and the flicker of light and the glint of her hazel eyes. A breeze causes soft, tickling strands of her hair to brush against his arm. The curtains rustle. The sea whispers.

Kias' eyes drift back to her mouth, lips slightly pursed, cheeks slightly flushed, chest rising and falling.

Why does she have to be so...

She swallows, and his gaze traces the bob of her throat. His mouth is dry. Her skin is so soft, her breaths so shallow. Not for the first time, it occurs to him that he... doesn't understand. Doesn't understand how anyone could consider Yesmine--or anyone like her--non-sentient. Could think that she's worth less than even a common pack animal.

She's... a person. A beautiful, extraordinary, intelligent, kind person with thoughts and feelings and a life. And Kias doesn't understand how his people--or rather, the people he disowned--can't see that.

Looking at her... he didn't understand her when he first met her. Still isn't sure he does. But looking at her, he's never been more glad to not be what he was made.

His gaze drifts across her face, taking her in -- the rounded hazel eyes, the plump lips, the sharp, delicate bones. Her eyes are wide -- and, Kias notices, locked onto his mouth. He traces an absent circle on her cheek with his thumb, his fingers sliding into the warmth of her hair. His mind trips over memories -- the first time he kissed her, ten thousand years ago, when she was just fifteen and he was trying to distract her from being upset by a bunch of idiots who were making fun of her. He remembers being surprised by how much he liked the feel of her mouth under his.

He liked it so much that he kissed her again the next couple times he saw her -- until her father found them in a closet and put an end to that. He remembers the warmth of her body, the feel of her smooth skin sliding under his fingers -- then, and during the last four months. He frequently finds himself accidentally touching her.

Her father isn't around now.

And she's not a kid anymore.

And Kias... his thumb stills on her face. "Mina," he says, his voice slightly hoarse from the dryness in his mouth.

"Yes?" She's breathless, the word barely there.

"I want to kiss you."

Those hazel eyes widen a little more, pupils dilating. "Then... uhm, kiss me...?"

Kias doesn't wait for another invitation. He pushes himself up on one elbow and pulls her head toward his in the same movement, claiming her mouth. She makes a startled sound, as if she didn't really expect him to do it.

Kias pushes himself closer, his fingers tangling in her hair, head tilting to a better angle. She opens her mouth to him, letting him taste her as her arms circle his neck -- as her body moves closer, her legs slipping over his so she's straddling him. Kias lets himself fall back against the couch again, one hand still in her hair while the other slides along one of her exposed thighs slowly. Her skin is so smooth, her mouth so soft and warm, the taste of her far better than that liquor. He pulls her closer, hands exploring -- gripping her hips, her waist, her thighs, needing to touch every inch. Yesmine arches into him, moaning into his mouth as her hands drift over his bare chest, exploring him in turn.

The taste of her, the feel of her... not only has it been months since Kias had a woman, he's been wanting this one for ten thousand years.

He pushes off the couch and flips her, laying her down along the length of it. She makes a startled sound as he follows her, still kissing her -- though with a bit more intent, a bit more leisure, a bit more depth. He plants one hand by her waist while the other explores, sliding beneath the hem of that dress, tracing lines on her soft, soft skin. Her fingers dig into the muscles of his back, drawing him closer.

Kias trails his mouth along her jaw, down her neck, over her collarbones. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, her body tense and loose in all the right places. She's beautiful, skin and flesh and bone and desire, her hands moving from his hair to his shoulders and back again. Kias takes his time tasting her skin -- remnants of salt and sun, something citrusy and light. He licks a path to the collar of her dress, his free hand tracing the waistband of her bikini shorts beneath it. She shivers, and her nails dig hard into his shoulders when he moves down and covers one of her breasts with his mouth, not bothering to move the dress out of the way.

Yesmine breathes his name, arching into him. Her legs wrap around his waist, and Kias chuckles, exhaling a deliberate breath against the wet fabric. She moans again. And she doesn't stop him -- not once.

Not as he divides his attention liberally between her breasts, not as he slips his fingers under the straps of her bikini, not as he removes those annoying bits of cloth altogether. The soas are still flying through the air around the boat, still frolicking the water, making everything glow. Making Yesmine glow.

Kias doesn't stop, and Yesmine doesn't stop him. Not when he takes her with his tongue, and his fingers, and eventually actually bothers to remove the dress -- and his own pants. Not when the soas descend beneath the waves again and Kias carries Yesmine into the small cabin belowdecks to toss her onto his bed.

Neither of them notice the sunrise. And it's only the growling of their stomachs that drive them upstairs for a very late breakfast.