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The envelope arrives on her doorstep through registered mail as April is on her way out and she signs for the thick envelope with a frown. She can't imagine who would be mailing anything to her, not when she's kept herself so distanced from nearly everyone she has ever met. Her name is on the front, however, and her address in Siren Cove is neatly printed on a white sticker, though under that she can see there are at least three other stickers. Her guess is that each sticker has a previous address written on it and she has to wonder who has been keeping such close tabs on her that they've been able to track her through her last three locations.
She's wanted on charges in at least two states and she makes herself difficult to find for that reason alone. The charges are minor, she doubts she'll ever be interesting enough for any police to follow her across state lines or really pursue her, but she's still done her best to make sure she stays out of jail for that little bit of money she's convinced people to give her. It's not stealing, she thinks, if the person in question wants her to have the cash.
But if the police haven't bothered to find her, she's not sure who has and it isn't until she reaches the boardwalk that she opens the envelope. The return address is a law office in Canada and she wonders if it has something to do with the foster homes as she slips her nail under the flap and opens it.
The contents don't make sense at first. Several legal documents mention Melanie Ross, a name she doesn't recognize, and there's a copy of the woman's will folded carefully around a letter. Whoever she is, she's clearly dead, and April imagines she must be some distant relative, someone she's never even heard of until she opens the letter and sees her name written across the top in a slanting, delicate scrawl.
The letter is from her mother.
Her dead mother.
April scans the will quickly, catches sight of her name, and she feels her stomach turn. There's nothing in the world she wants from this woman with her addictions and her inability to care for her children. The letter makes no mention of the sister April knows she has, the woman somewhere out there in the world who is only a year older than she is, the only decent memory she has of the very brief time she spent in her mother's care. There are other names, though. The names of other women, other places her father had visited.
It reads like some kind of tell-all and the more April reads, the more disgusted she feels until she reaches a familiar name and she feels like her heart stops in her chest. Flynn. Another woman in the long line of women her father had been with, another woman her own mother had apparently kept track of and April shakes her head, torn between fascination at this revelation and disgust at her mother's obsession with the things her philandering father had done.
If this is true, it means part of the family she's told herself she's not looking for is right here in Siren Cove.
April stands up abruptly from the bench and walks down the beach until she's at the guest house on Corrine's property. She doesn't know what she's doing, if she wants to see Corrine or Les and she stands there on the beach for a moment, indecisive in a way she usually isn't. Then she turns abruptly, yanking her sundress over her head as she walks straight into the ocean. She needs to swim. She needs to really be herself for a little while.
[The swimming part is mostly for Les to catch April in her siren form, so everyone else can catch her on the boardwalk with the envelope she doesn't know what to make of. :D]
She's wanted on charges in at least two states and she makes herself difficult to find for that reason alone. The charges are minor, she doubts she'll ever be interesting enough for any police to follow her across state lines or really pursue her, but she's still done her best to make sure she stays out of jail for that little bit of money she's convinced people to give her. It's not stealing, she thinks, if the person in question wants her to have the cash.
But if the police haven't bothered to find her, she's not sure who has and it isn't until she reaches the boardwalk that she opens the envelope. The return address is a law office in Canada and she wonders if it has something to do with the foster homes as she slips her nail under the flap and opens it.
The contents don't make sense at first. Several legal documents mention Melanie Ross, a name she doesn't recognize, and there's a copy of the woman's will folded carefully around a letter. Whoever she is, she's clearly dead, and April imagines she must be some distant relative, someone she's never even heard of until she opens the letter and sees her name written across the top in a slanting, delicate scrawl.
The letter is from her mother.
Her dead mother.
April scans the will quickly, catches sight of her name, and she feels her stomach turn. There's nothing in the world she wants from this woman with her addictions and her inability to care for her children. The letter makes no mention of the sister April knows she has, the woman somewhere out there in the world who is only a year older than she is, the only decent memory she has of the very brief time she spent in her mother's care. There are other names, though. The names of other women, other places her father had visited.
It reads like some kind of tell-all and the more April reads, the more disgusted she feels until she reaches a familiar name and she feels like her heart stops in her chest. Flynn. Another woman in the long line of women her father had been with, another woman her own mother had apparently kept track of and April shakes her head, torn between fascination at this revelation and disgust at her mother's obsession with the things her philandering father had done.
If this is true, it means part of the family she's told herself she's not looking for is right here in Siren Cove.
April stands up abruptly from the bench and walks down the beach until she's at the guest house on Corrine's property. She doesn't know what she's doing, if she wants to see Corrine or Les and she stands there on the beach for a moment, indecisive in a way she usually isn't. Then she turns abruptly, yanking her sundress over her head as she walks straight into the ocean. She needs to swim. She needs to really be herself for a little while.
[The swimming part is mostly for Les to catch April in her siren form, so everyone else can catch her on the boardwalk with the envelope she doesn't know what to make of. :D]
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She'll tell him, but not right now. Maybe once they get back to shore. Maybe when she's dressed again. Maybe when she's not.
"Come on," she says, pushing herself back further in the water. "Take me back to your place."
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They come back to the shore where they had left all their clothes, and he starts to climb out of the water, dripping wet, material sticking to him. Once he's out of the water, he realizes April is much more indisposed than he is, and he stands in the sand watching her. "So I guess this is the part where you got found out last time...." he says, remembering their previous conversation about magically shielding her from prying eyes. He shakes his hair a little to dry it then picks up his shirt shaking it to get rid of the sand.
It isn't going to matter much without a towel so he just tugs his shirt over his head and picks up the rest of his clothes and shoes, waiting for her to get out. But he grabs her sundress and carries it over to where she is in the water. "I believe this is yours," he says, holding it out to her, letting it hang off the end of his finger.
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Not far from where she'd dropped her dress, she sees her sandals and the envelope and she collects them, but says nothing about it. Her mother's will is still in there, the letter with all those secrets and she feels something clench in her chest, something she has to ignore. She'll tell him another time. Later.
Or maybe she'll never have to say a word to anyone.
He isn't afraid of her like this. She doesn't want to give him any reason to leave. It's not something she's ever cared about before, but she wants him around and once she's dressed she steps closer to him, wrapping her fingers in the hem of his shirt to tug him against her. "But don't I look better out of it?"
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Les keeps his eyes fixed on April's but then lets his gaze sweep over her body as she comes out of the water, having not before witnessed the transformation for himself. Seeing the black scales turn back into skin, her tail turn to limbs, nails and teeth become human. And it’s all a great trick, like magic before his very eyes making them light up in delight, but also widen with something else, something far more heated and focused. She comes out of the water unclothed and even in donning her dress, he sees the outlines, the soft curves of where he hopes to soon touch.
He steps back a couple steps, waiting for her to gather her things, with a smile. When she comes up to him, pulling him forward, he smiles even wider and lets his hands rest over her hips. Her dress is damp under his fingers, and he wants to get it off her.
“You did look better out of it even with the pointy teeth,” he says, kissing her for a second but then quickly tugging her along by the arm so they can leave, the ocean suddenly losing all its interest. The guest house isn’t far from where they stand, but it still seems farther away than he would like it to be.
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She wants to thank him, to say something, but she can't think of the right words. For someone who has made an entire life out of knowing exactly what to say and when to say it, Les has done an awfully good job at rendering her relatively speechless. She knows it's because so much of what she's said before has been lies or half-truths, woven in a way to make people happy. She doesn't want to lie to him.
Once they're inside, she drops the envelope without looking at where it lands and her hands reach for Les, her fingers slipping under the hem of his shirt and smoothing over warm skin. "Touch me," she says. It's not a demand, it's even a bit of a question, but she steps closer to him, making it impossible for him not to.
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Up this close, he leans down, pressing his lips against hers in a hungry kiss, walking them forward blindly, dragging sand and water onto the floor from their bare feet. His legs tangle with hers as they move through the room, but he doesn't want to stop kissing her long enough to look where they're headed. All the boxes he's packed line are in the way actually, slowing them down as they bump into a couple on their way towards the bed. As they come up to it, he lets his lips fall away for a moment, long enough to work the dress up her body, where he can get a hand underneath smoothing over her ass and around to the front, slipping his fingers between her thighs. He doesn't know where she wants him to touch her first so just everywhere is the plan.
He gets the other hand cupped around her cheek, pulling her lips back to his, kissing her deeply until he feels breathless from it. He wants to take his time here, but it's difficult to control himself with April, to hold back, to not want her as badly as he does. All he can do is touch her, the way she's asked, the way he wants too...
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She needs him.
"God, Les," she murmurs, her breath caught in her throat as his hands roam over her and she has to step back again, long enough for her to lift the hem of his shirt, tugging it over his head. She wants him right now, she wants all of him and she presses her body against him tightly, her hand slipping down between them, her palm pressing against his cock through his underwear.
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He hisses a sound of pleasure when she touches him, instantly feeling that surge inside. He needs no enticing, no arousing from her hands. He is ready, more than ready. They've done this together, and it shouldn't feel as good as it does. But he wants her more than he did before. She even tastes and smells better to him now, her skin dried with traces of salty ocean water. He wants her on her back, to be inside her, but he lets her rub her hands against his cock a few times, enjoying her touch, feeling it all over his body. "That's good," he mutters at her, kissing his lips to her neck then pushes against her, using his weight to lead her down onto the middle of the bed.
She has her hands inside his underwear, but he quickly gets them off himself. He rolls onto his side for the time being, drawing his eyes over her body. "Mm, you stay," he says, rubbing his hands over her chest and breasts, soft skin supple and hot under his fingers. In emphasis, he presses his hand on her stomach, not wanting her to move, until he reaches across for the wallet on the nightstand. He has the condom unwrapped and on barely even fast enough despite his sharp focused movements. Normally he would want to kiss and touch and explore, but the urgency overtakes him. It's unlike anything he's felt in a long time. This want for somebody he can't control.
Because he needs to feel all of her. Right now. Stroking himself a few more times with one hand, the other teasing between her legs, he wonders if he should be worried about this, about them, whatever they're doing. He kicks away the thought though, covering her body once more with his own, laying between her legs, his face over hers. He watches her as he guides his cock into her, wanting to see it feel good to her too.
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And April knows she's far from inexperienced. She's used sex for years to get what she wants out of people and this is the first time she's been the one who's needed it. Pleasure is one thing and it's easily taken, but that's not all this is about and she doesn't want to admit that even to herself, but she can't stop thinking it. She needs more than just sex, because she could find that from anyone. She needs Les right now.
Hooking her arm around his shoulder, she tugs him closer, one leg sliding up, her hips arching to change the angle and a soft moan escapes her. "Les," she breathes, her palm smoothing down his back before her fingers curl under, her nails biting lightly into his skin. "Oh, god."
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But Les knows how to do this, how to make her feel as good as possible. His breath has gone ragged from the movement of their bodies, but he lifts his hand under her, cuffing the back of her knee to press her leg open a little more, to fit himself even closer. He uses his hips to thrust inside of her harder, his lips parting in a gasp at the contact. "Yeah. God yes," he huffs in a breathless rush of air, as he continues to press into her in a rhythm, thinking he could get used to this. Thinking that he is getting used to being with her.
Even if it's just a casual deal between them. Even if he's been with others since he's met her. None of that seems to matter. No one else makes him feel like this. No one makes him desperate to come back for more. No strings or not, April is different. He knows because he feels the way he responds to her, because he loves the look on her face while they do this, like he is all she needs right now, and there's something about that idea that he wants to be true.
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If it meant nothing, she wouldn't say his name. She'd make all the appropriate sounds, she would moan and arch into him and gasp. But this isn't just about how he touches her, it's about more than that, and so when his name passes her lips, she isn't particularly surprised. It's not just about his body, it's about him.
"Les, please," she breathes, though she doesn't know what she's asking for exactly. Her leg hooks around him, changing the angle again and a startled gasp escapes April, her head falling back against the bed, her eyes open, lips parted. It could be about forgetting, she could use him to distract herself from everything she's learned today, but she realizes she has every intention of telling him. It's not about forgetting, it's about finding something new.
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He touches her body without a second thought, like he already knows what she wants from him, letting his fingers pleasure her, somehow needing to show her the way he feels even if he can't say it. Can't say that he likes the way his name passes over her lips. Because it sounds like he is exactly what she needs. Even if he isn't, he answers her back because she is what he needs at this precise moment. "April. God, you're amazing," he manages to say in between a gasp as he feels his body tightening, the muscles in his arm jumping as he holds his body upward. He's about to come, but he presses into her still, not slowing the pace until his body is ready to explode, every inch of his skin on fire, his eyes focused on her face, on her.
She's the one making him feel this way, and it's why he comes with a grunt, saying her name as he feels his orgasm shoot through his body. "April, oh god," he mutters breathlessly at her again, holding himself tightly inside of her, not ready to let go.
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"Les," she breathes just as her orgasm rolls over her and her lips part in a soundless moan, pressing herself harder against his hand as she tries to drag him deeper into her, too, but he's as deep as he can get and she knows he's coming. He's so incredible and she thinks she should tell him, she should find the words, but all she can do is close her eyes and bite down on her lower lip as her body trembles with gratification.
It takes a long time before she relaxes against the bed again, before her hand smooths against his back instead of gripping him tightly and trying to hold him against her. Her eyes open slowly and she tilts her head back, grinning up at the ceiling before she looks back to Les. "Wow," she says, still smiling.
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He releases her mouth and stares at her for a few seconds, still touching her face. She's beautiful like this. In his bed, with him. "I like doing that with you," he says suddenly, wondering immediately if that's something he should say. But after he says it wishes he had said something better than that, something more true. Something closer to what he felt a few seconds ago. When he felt like he couldn't get close enough to her, deep enough. When he had wanted her to need him back. He just doesn't know how to put the words together, and maybe it's okay if they can just stay like this for a little while longer.
Kissing her again, he smiles easily. "So is that your usual swim time? Because I'll make sure I'm around next time too."
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At his question, she remembers the envelope lying somewhere in the guest house. The reason she'd been out there in the water. She'd meant to come and find Corrine, possibly, or Les and then she hadn't been able to, but maybe it was because she'd needed today to be sure he was someone she could tell these things to. She doesn't trust people because no one has ever given her a reason to, but he's seen every last bit of her as a siren and he's still here.
"No," she says with a small, genuine smile. "I swim in the mornings. I was..." She pauses, because she doesn't want to say these things while he's still inside her. She wants to just enjoy this for a few more moments before she has to tell him. "I got some strange news today. I'll tell you about it if you kiss me again first."
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So he is admittedly curious about what news she could've gotten and feel the need to share.
"Just gimme a sec..." he tells her with a smirk as he disappears into the bathroom. He discards the used condom into the garbage and then rummages through the last bag of clothes he's using to get him through the next few days. Everything else is packed up already. He finds a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. He puts on the pants grabbing a towel to dry his hair the rest of the way. When he comes back out of the bathroom, he gives the shirt to April, not sure where her wet dress went, but they could find it later. "Never thought I'd miss having my own closet," he tells her sitting back on the bed.
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When he returns and hands her the t-shirt, she smiles and tugs it over her head, dragging her damp hair from the collar before moving up the bed a little to sit beside him. She isn't usually nervous, but now, faced with having to tell someone the truth for the first time in a very long time, she is.
"Thanks for the shirt," she says when he comments on missing his own closet. Then she tucks her legs under her and looks at him, her smile faint. "The first night we met, I told you my parents were dead and... that wasn't strictly the truth. I had no idea about my father, to be honest, I thought it was likely he had died, but I knew my mother was still alive. She had a problem with drugs and when I was two I was taken away from her, so as far as I was concerned, she was dead. She couldn't care for me when I needed her, so I wrote her off." She inclines her head in the direction they'd come from where the envelope lies somewhere on the floor. "I got her will in the mail today. She died three weeks ago."
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That night he'd met April at Watersong was right after Corry's kidnapping. He'd been confused and angry and needed a distraction to keep his mind off everything, and April had come along at just the perfect moment. She had said all the right things, kept things low-pressure, teasing and flirting with him, and he'd done the same with her. From the way she had spoken that day, it wouldn't have surprised him had she already left town again.
But the news about her mom does take him aback somewhat.
Because she's being honest with him now even if she hadn't been that first night. There are things in the story Les understands for certain, and he can't find it in himself to be angry over the lie. When she says her mom has died, he feels something closer to sympathy even though April didn't know her. He just knows what it's like to get these papers. Stuff like wills and property and it sorta sucks.
"Wow. Sorry. That's sucks. Did you tell your mom you lived here?" he asks letting his hand cover her arm a little, feeling he should touch her.
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And she doesn't know why. That's the thing that's bothering her even more than knowing she has family in this town. She doesn't know why her mother would have cared enough to track her. She'd given up her rights to her children in favour of drugs, so why would she try so hard to keep track of the daughter she'd given away?
"She'd been tracking my apparent father, too," she says slowly. "I have no memories of him, he left when I was only a baby, the foster home told me he was dead and I had no reason not to believe them. But he wasn't. He's not. He's... gotten around."
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Les just listens as she speaks, overcome with the feeling that he wishes he could make it better somehow, say something to make her laugh or smile. He realizes how much he cares for her even though he's slowly beginning to understand the depth of he's feelings for her whether he admits it or not.
He cares because he is sad that she's sad, that she didn't know her mom and that she went through foster care, knows some of what life's like with an addict. He wishes she didn't have to with it, with crummy parents.
When she gets to end about her dad, he winces wondering what he'd do if he suddenly found out something about his own dad. A man Les never thinks about, ever, but he thinks he would be just as confused as April seems.
"Tracking him? You mean, like, your mom gave you an address to your dad too?" he asks, putting an arm around her shoulder when she leans against him. "What are you gonna do?" He actually gets this feeling in his stomach, a worry, thinking maybe she's saying she has an address and she's going to find her father or something.
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"But she mentioned a few women he's been with. Two he'd had children with." She can't look at him, it's impossible, but finally she feels her gaze drifting over. Tipping her chin up, she looks at Les, her brows drawn together and she looks younger than she usually done. Confused and a little lost.
"I think... she mentioned a woman with the last name Flynn," she says slowly. "I think Corrine might be my half-sister."
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Flynn.
It's then Les understands why April is sharing this with him. He doesn't know how to respond to her news straight away. Part of him thinking Corry's already been through enough. Finding the first brother and now this? Now a sister? But he also thinks how strange that April had stumbled into town only to find this strange awkward mess. Something tells him April didn't know, maybe it's the vulnerable almost lost look on face, but he knows she didn't.
At the very least it's awkward. Uncomfortable too once Corry knows. Unless...
"Does Corry know?" he asks sitting up a little straighter to get a better look at April, needing to see her face. He doesn't think Corry knows. She's out of town, and she would've told him. Plus, April says she just got the news today. He sighs a little. "Are you gonna tell her?"
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She doesn't like not knowing what to do, not when she's spent so much of her life so certain in her decisions. Being able to adapt to any situation is something she's always been good at, but now, for the first time, she doesn't know what to do. She's lying in bed with a man she's been sleeping with regularly, someone she actually cares about even if she doesn't want to think about that. She doesn't do this, she doesn't stay in bed with anyone, but she's here.
"Should I?" she asks. She needs his advice.
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It's a good thing Corry doesn't know yet. She's off rehearsing, and he knows she had been excited about the play, and he doesn't think anything should ruin that. Let alone more news about how her father is an asshole. But he knows eventually she will find out, and he isn't sure what her reaction is going to be.
He sighs, rubbing at his forehead for just a second, still attempting to process everything. The longer the news sinks in, the more unpleasant it sounds. He doesn't blame April for telling him, but if it's true advice she needs, he isn't really able to act as an objective party here. Not about Corry.
"Yeah. You should. But I dunno. Corry's my best friend. There isn't much I wouldn't tell her." Now that he knows, he would have to say something even if April decides not to do it. Something like this would be too huge to keep to himself.
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"I'll tell her," she says. "I won't make you do that." She still has no idea what she feels about it herself, having gone straight into the water and then straight to bed with Les. Both acts had made it easy to forget the reason she'd been on the beach in the first place, but now she's not distracted anymore. Now she has to confront it and she's at a bit of a loss.
"He's a siren," she continues, considering. "I have to believe he's somehow responsible for my being here. It's too great a coincidence otherwise. He's been all over Canada, he's been all over the U.S., it seems impossible that I'd end up in the same town as Corrine just by chance."
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