Chapter 8 #5
Worse yet, every time I try to explain that it's not that I'm afraid, so much as I don't want to fly again, even if it were possible with enough rehab, I end up feeling even more alone.
Even in the various support groups for other shifters dealing with disabilities that cross forms with them, no one gets it.
They all want to fix me when I don't feel broken.
So I stopped trying to meet other flightless avian shifters and opted out of various flight rehabilitation programs and settled into my own routine.
My wings are more decorative than functional at this point.
I can awkwardly glide short distances, but too much of that comes with a price of pain and stiffness to be paid with interest.
And just like when I felt utterly alone and adrift in my hospital bed until Clara came to visit me after my accident, here she is again seeing parts of me I don't think I can put into words.
Not just seeing, but returning my wordless plea for the safety of a flock.
It feels like back then, the two of us figuratively perched in the same tree at the eye of a hurricane, ready to stand watch for each other.
I'm still smiling as I dive into the water.
Today I picked one of the faster lanes, I need to pour out all the energy flowing through me.
Need to feel the burn of muscles pushed to their limits.
I'm buoyant from more than the way the salt water naturally lifts me toward the surface as I arrow along the lane.
There's a sense of endless possibilities unfolding before me.
Like when I was a fledgling just learning the wonders of open flight outside safe confines, and the entire sky seemed like it was mine to explore.
Only that was terrifying and this is...freeing.
These moments are as close as I can imagine coming to the divine.
All the exhilaration of my body aligning with something damn near spiritual and the sense of wonder at how I fit into the world.
It's like how my family talks about flying.
So, maybe that's the answer to how to get them to understand.
Or maybe it's like Seb says, they don't have to understand to believe that I need this time to feel whole.
Moving in next to Clara is the next step toward redefining what whole looks like for me.
Some of the rave's expectations fit. I want to be connected to my flock and my family even as I form something new with Clara and her son.
And maybe Gillian.Gillian's prismatic eyes sparkle behind my eyelids every time I close my eyes, and I can't wait to gaze into them in person again soon.
I swim faster than my usual pace as I dream of how it would feel to do this with Gillian at my side.
She seemed so at home in the pool in both her forms. I want to feel her arms around me in the water.
Although the plans I have in mind are probably not ideal for a public pool.
Good thing I know all the best local beaches we can explore in the moonlight when the weather is a bit warmer.
And that has me looping back to fond memories of her tentacles moving in her bathtub last night.
Fantasies flit through my head unbidden and I have to remember that I'm here to swim, not relive our tryst. Or long for a chance to repeat it in person.
Soon. At least, I hope she'll still want more of me after the emotional turmoil from yesterday and her fight with her sister passes.
Hope flutters in my chest with wings far more sturdy than my own.
It's overwhelming to want like this again.
Not the surface level attraction that spurred me to ask for her number, this goes deeper.
It's probably a side effect from the heightened emotions around our introduction, but the magnetic draw to learn the contours of another shifter inside and out grips me with the same helpless knowing that my raven used to feel on the wing.
My inner bird has an instinctual grasp of how to navigate unseen seasonal pathways she's never followed.
Static ravens don't migrate in the sense most people think of, but our non-shifting cousins do shift their ranges to avoid the worst ravages of harsh local winters and I'm following a long-standing tradition among young unmated birds by venturing outside my flock's established territory to mark my independence.
I swim harder as my thoughts go spiraling right back to courting Gillian. Those young static birds leave home to find their mates. And that's not what I'm doing. It's not.
It's just that I happen to want to explore every inch of Gillian's gorgeous body. Sex isn't the scary part of the equation. It's the fact I want to take the time to map out every place that makes her shiver and squirm with need.
I want to learn Gillian’s heart and her mind as much as her body.
I want to understand her. The way she thinks and how she literally wears her heart in the way her chromatophores sparkle.
I want to get inside her heart and her mind as much as anything sexual and the last time I let myself get this wrapped up in another shifter it was a mistake. The worst mistake of my life.
I mean. Not counting trusting Clara. The intimacy I share with her is…it has nothing to do with mates. I love her and she loves me and it's not the heart-stopping, stepping off the edge of a cliff and into freefall terror of being in love.
Falling in love is for birds who've never felt their wings breaking on impact.
I won't be falling for anyone. Ever. No matter how much I like Gillian and how good I felt with her on the phone.
It's a crush. We'll fuck the attraction out of our systems and part as friends and it will all work out just fine. No falling required.
No matter how easy it is to lose myself in her eyes as she trusted me with her most vulnerable desires.
It would be easy to let her sweetness tempt me into abandoning all caution, so I distract myself from the discomfort of pining for a crush in the best way I know.
I push my body to the limits of what my shoulder will allow.
Even though I have a fraction of my usual time in the water this morning, by the end of the session, my muscles are burning, and my lungs are screaming at me to give it a rest.
When the lifeguards' whistles echo over the water to call an end to my time, I'm past the midway point of my final lap and I'm exhausted. I flip over to float on my back and get my bearings, then make the call to paddle back toward the shallow end to wrap up my swim.
Most of the other regulars are already out of the water by the time I make it to the edge of the pool.
They probably anticipated the larger than usual rush for the showers.
Ugh, at least I don't have anywhere urgent to be.
Unless Clara is in a hurry. I look for her and her son to no avail.
Hilda catches my eye from the edge of the pool where she's helping arrange various flotation devices for the kids during open swim.
"Looking for Clara?" Hilda calls over to me. At least, I'm pretty sure that's what she asks, it's hard to hear her over the low roar of small talk from all the shifters chatting while they dry off.
I nod, too winded to yell over the noise.
"She's helping Linc get changed and ready to roll, but she said they'd be waiting for you in the lobby," Hilda gestures toward the changing area.
"Thanks."
"No problem. It's good to see her smiling for once, you know?" Hilda flashes me a smile.
I brace my hands on the edge and I know before I even try to pull myself up and out of the water that it's not happening today.
My fingers tingle just a bit, dialing my brain back into the baseline ache in my joint that I've been tuning out while I swim.
Not one of my worst days, but far from one of my best and now I've overdone it.
The warning signs are clear; if I put my weight on my shoulder right now, I'm going to regret it.
"Need a hand?" Hilda arches a brow when I'm still lingering by the edge of the pool. Marilee is heading toward us too, her concerned look aimed my way. Damn it. I don't want to need help getting out of the pool. This is the one place I usually don't struggle.
"I'm good, just going to mosey over to the stairs. Thanks Hilda." I wave off both of them and gesture toward the stairs so they'll know I'm taking care of myself.
Marilee nods and turns to help Ginger rearrange the lane markers for open swim as I wade along the shallow end toward the stairs.
"Mhm. Piece of advice?" Hilda says.
"Sure." I pause in front of her and stretch out my shoulders to minimize the pain to come. There's some Tylenol in my bag for days like this, no big deal. Not exactly the way I'd hoped to end the session, but I still feel the sated bliss of a good workout suffusing my entire body.
"I'm not sure what it was you were trying to outswim there, but I'm pretty sure whatever it was isn't going to stop haunting you until you face it."
"Huh?"
"You can't outswim your own thoughts, Winny. I've seen you trying every morning for years now and it's never going to work."
"Is this one of those, ‘face your fears and fly’ talks? Cause I've had a crop full of those and I'm over it."
"No. Not at all. Whatever you're afraid of? It's probably nowhere near as bad as being afraid."
Oh. Well that....that's just rude as hell for being correct. "Right." I nod stiffly.
"Just saying, Clara mentioned you might be moving into the empty half of her building and that's great if you're planning to stick around. Make sure you’re certain though. She and Luca need folks around them who aren't going to run away when things get hard."
"That's not... Are you giving me a shovel talk? Cause it's not like that between us."
"I know. Clara said as much. Doesn't change what I said."
"I'm not running away from anything Hilda. Not with that. The opposite. I'm finding where I'm supposed to be."
"Good. That's real good. Take care then." She tips her head in a nod.
"You too." I wave to her and then I climb out of the pool, missing the water already. I wrap myself in a towel to wait for my turn in the showers.