TO THE LIGHT

2 | THE BEGINNING

Italian translations are in the comments — apologies if there are any mistakes!

| FEBRUARY |

For the last month, Lucia has spent not only her mornings down at Piccola Fetta Di Paradiso, but the afternoons, too. She's been at the cove more than she has been anywhere else.

In fact, on one occasion mid-January, she stayed the night; falling asleep under the stars while curled up on her rock with her book as a pillow and rainbow patchwork cardigan as a blanket.

Lucia woke up the next day thanks to her seagull alarm clock with a crick in her neck, a sore back and a chill all over her body, but she didn't mind. She instead contemplated bringing an actual pillow and blanket down with her some other night to snooze here again; although she is yet to do such a thing.

Meeting the merman has lived front and centre in Lucia's mind, but she is still yet to have a second interaction with them. You could barely count the first instance as one, but Lucia still does. It's single-handedly the most exciting thing to have ever happened to her, and the pull she felt when locking eyes with a glittering pair can't go ignored.

When she hasn't been down at the cove reading and waiting for the sweet creature to return, Lucia has been running the lighthouse as usual, doing her chores and knitting. She also completed her usual fortnightly shop in town, greeting the residents with smiles and exchanging polite Italian hello's.

Those two journey's to the local markets felt completely different to how they used to, though. Life in general did, and still does, because Lucia encountered real magic and knows that the people of Sorrento, and perhaps even the whole world, haven't.

If it was the case that they had, tales of merpeople wouldn't be that. They'd be fact, which to Lucia they now are. She only hopes, prays, dreams for a second encounter with hers, just to really solidify their existence as science and not some figment of her active imagination, which she's starting to believe is the situation at hand more and more with every day that passes without sighting.

She's also wondered about whether or not to tell somebody what, or who, she saw, but they'd likely paint her as the crazy English lady. That's the last thing anybody wants or needs; least of all Lucia. She'd need proof before saying a word, and that's not something that she can get, nor would she be willing to.

Plus, Lucia doesn't really know anyone here. Sure, she's friendly with the locals, but the connections don't go past basic pleasantries.

An exception could be kind of made for Jackson: an American man and Sorrento's resident chief doctor. He's attempted on numerous occasions to be more than friendly with Lucia anytime they've bumped into each other at the market, even stopping by Chiamare Da Casa on a couple of instances to ask her out on a date, but she's rebuffed his every advance.

Lucia loves love, but she doesn't want it from Jackson, nor will she ever feel it for him. There's no spark of excitement there for her, no sense of feeling so comfortable and alive under someone's stare that your soul soars up into the stars.

Those feelings are very much reserved for a merman, one that Lucia is beginning to doubt was ever around.

Yet now, post lighthouse-checks and breakfast-consumption, Lucia makes her way down the stoney steps to Piccola Fetta Di Paradiso with her usual book and flask of tea accessories to find that they were ever around, because they're here. Right in front of her emerald eyes. Eyes that she blinks rapidly in worry that they're playing tricks on her.

But they aren't. The sun sparkles down against the ocean, a beautiful scattering of glittering lights across the water, but Lucia doesn't look there.

Instead, she's focused on those soft-looking chocolate curls that she's imagined running her fingers through. The closer she gets, the more she see the slightly reddish tint to them; just like she remembered.