#arthur curry x you
Silhouette
Pairing: Arthur (Aquaman) X Reader
Word count: 1.9 K
Summary:During a visit to a small, cold town, you took a picture of the waves. Among them, the shadow of a man. You couldn’t stop thinking about it, so you decide to go back and try to find him.
×
It was a forgotten picture, that you didn’t look twice when you took it, almost a year ago on a trip to Iceland.
Photography has always been your hobby, and that makes you always look for different places to visit. So that was how you found yourself in that frozen, small village, walking over that dock, with the waves crashing around you, the water splashing crystal towers above you. At that moment, you turned around and clicked, and the picture came out as if the water was levitating.
A beautiful, perfect picture, that got lost among the many others.
But now, it got your attention.
After printing it, you hold it in your hands as you sip a cup of tea, moving to sit on the armchair you have by the bedroom window.
The picture is amazing, gorgeous. The cold colors, the dark and pale blue palette, the water, hitting the dock from both sides, creating a tunnel. But that’s not what gets your attention.
It’s the man, or better saying, the silhouette of a man, standing right in the middle of the waves.
You tried some alterations before printing it, to see it better. But it was useless. It’s clear it’s a man, 6 feet tall, or maybe a little more. Strong, stronger than anyone you’ve ever seen. You’re mesmerized by him, you’re not sure why. Two weeks after you saw it, you still can’t let it go.
And when you have ten days off work, you book a flight back to the very same place.
It’s a long shot, stupid even, to look for someone who might not be there. For someone that only appeared for a second, because you’re sure he wasn’t there the moment after the shot. You’d notice a man like that if he was standing right in front of you.
But when you regret this silly, stupid decision, you’re already on the plane. So there’s nothing else to do than enjoy the trip, and that’s what you do. After you’ve settled on the small cabin, you leave, walking around the place and seeing that nothing really changed.
But it’s a complete change of scenery from the big city you live in. Things are slower here, and people know each other. But the downside is that it’s cold. Freezing, more likely. But it’s beautiful. And it doesn’t take much until you’re taking pictures.
“Excuse me, miss.” Someone calls, and you turn around to find two men carrying a huge box, full of fish.
“Sorry.” You say, stepping out of the way with an apologetic look. “Mmm… Excuse me. Do you know any places I could get a different angle?” Deciding to ask, you show the camera to justify the question. “I’m a photographer.”
“There’s a cliff over there.” One of the men, with gray hair and faded yellow pants, points out. “There’s a trail on the end of the beach that leads there, a smooth one. But rained yesterday so the stone might be slippery, be careful.”
“I will be, thank you.” With a wave and a smile, you turn around, going to where he pointed out.
You couldn’t help but take pictures on your way there. Flowers, trees, animals.
But even now, that picture burns in your head. Also, you couldn’t help but notice that the man in it – if he even lives here – isn’t anywhere to be found. Not that you looked for him diligently.
The track is indeed easy. Two miles, maybe three, always going up. And when you get up there, the view is amazing. The ocean, the village, the gray clouds above.
You’re clicking over and over, walking closer to the edge. When you get there, you can see a stream of water below you, among the rocks to your left, flowing to join the ocean down there. Careful where you put your feet, you move closer to the edge to get a better look. The stone doesn’t seem that slippery, so you feel brave. You’re basically on the very edge when you get the perfect angle, taking a few clicks. When you’re done, you stop, letting the camera hang from your neck, looking around, and taking your time to admire the place.
The wind is cold, and you wish you had a stronger coat. But you’ll come back here tomorrow. You’ll be staying for five days, more than enough time to revisit the places you like the most.
Looking down, at the raging water down there, you spot a shadow. A fish perhaps, but it’s too big. A shark? But that’s an odd shape for a shark. The image, moving almost unnaturally, stops suddenly. You don’t even notice you’re bending over, trying to see it better.
But you suddenly lose balance when a stronger wind hits you and to add up to that, the rock under your feet breaks, launching you into a free fall, knocking all the air out of your lungs as you hit the water hard.
Cold, freezing water.
And you don’t know how to swim.
But despite that, you try to fight it, out of instinct, to make your way back to the surface. But the water is too strong, pulling you down every time you get closer to the light, to the air, for which your lungs burn.
It doesn’t take long until you’re tired, exhausted. Chest burning, brain getting slower for the lack of oxygen. You didn’t know it was that fast. At some point, you just stop, eyes open, taking in the vastness of blue around you. A good place to die maybe. You wonder if you should let the water in, die already since that’s happening sooner or later.
But in the middle of that thought, you see it. The silhouette from the picture, the shadow in the water.
A man, swimming, floating, over to you.
Maybe you’re dead already, and the very last synapses your brain can fathom are making you hallucinate.
But when he’s right in front of you, when he touches you, he’s very, very real.
•••
You jolt awake suddenly, turning on your side and spitting seawater on the sand, lungs pulling the air in and pushing it out violently. With a hand over your heart, it takes some time to recall what happened. The cliff, the fall, the man.
The man.
Looking up again, near your legs, you see him. Huge, muscular… Shirtless. Hair wet, probably from saving you, and eyes like a predator. A shark comes to mind.
“You…” Voice fading, you clear your throat. “That was embarrassing.” You continue in a low voice.
“Don’t worry. You’re not the first tourist I have to rescue.” He says, and his voice gets to you. It’s strong, deep, and sends shivers down your spine. “Are you feeling well enough to stand up? Or do you need me to take you where you’re staying?”
“I’m well enough.” You quickly say, getting up.
But when your legs fail you, the man keeps you from collapsing on the sand. “Whoa. Easy.” He says with a smile. “Don’t push yourself.”
“Thanks, mmm…” Looking at him now, eyes traveling quickly through his body, you remember it. The picture. And you also remember your camera. “Oh, no. My camera.” Looking around, you don’t find it.
“Is it waterproof?” You nod, raising your head to look into his eyes. “I’ll get it.”
“You don't–” And he’s off, running back to the water and vanishing from sight.
You stand there, alone, until you start wondering if he got caught up by the powerful waves. After a while, with your eyes attentive to the ocean, you start considering getting someone to help. But when you’re about to move, you see him, walking over the beach as if it wasn’t through any trouble.
“Here.” He says when he’s close enough, handing over the camera.
“I have a picture of you.” You burst out, taking the camera back. “I-I mean… Last year I was here and I snapped a picture by the docks. You were there so…” Looking down, you shake your head. “It’s stupid.”
“I’d like to see it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Is it in the camera?”
“Oh, no. I don’t keep the pictures here or else I would have no space for the new ones. But I have a printed version in my cabin. I’ll bring it over.” Gesturing at the hill where you’re rented cabin is, you look back up at him. “Give me twenty minutes and I’ll be back here.”
“Or we can save the time and I could go with you.” And he starts walking in the direction you pointed out. “Name’s Arthur. Yours?”
“Mmm…” Taking a deep breath, you rush to reach him, keeping his pace. “(Y/N).”
“(Y/N), huh? It suits you.” Looking down at you, Arthur smiles.
“Really?”
“Yeah. Pretty name for a pretty lady.” That makes you blush. “What brings you here? Looking for the man in the picture?”
Choking on air, you cough, clear your throat, and try to look normal. As casual as possible. “I came because I loved this place last year. That’s why I’m back here.”
“Oh, I hit the exact right spot, didn’t I?” He chuckles, and you stop.
It doesn’t take much for him to do the same. “Look, I don’t know what’s up with you, but I don’t like being… Mocked.” You say, your cheeks burning.
Arthur furrows his eyebrows, coming closer. “You’re not used to being complimented. So you think I’m joking.”
Gasping, you step back, crossing your arms. “You–.” Whatever sassy comment you were hoping to come out, doesn’t. “I don't–.” Shaking your head, you sigh, starting to walk again. “As if you know me.”
“Wait, wait.” Arthur grabs your arm, but not in a violent way. He doesn’t squeeze it, softly pulls it instead, forcing you to stop again. “You were looking for me and I was looking for you.” He says, towering over you. Eyebrows furrowed, you wonder if he’s joking again. But his voice, deep, strong… Sounds like he’s serious. “The girl in the light pink coat with a camera around her neck, walking through the deck in the middle of the splashing waves. I tried to find you but… You live too far from the ocean.”
“Too… Far from the ocean?”
He smiles. “You don’t know me. I’m who people call Aquaman.”
Your brain freezes, and it makes sense. It’s a weird feeling to suddenly know the man you’ve been talking to for a while now, and it feels like you were hit by cold water. Again. “Y-you… You’re like… That water guy from the League.”
“I’m that water guy from the League, yes.” He repeats with a smile. “I tried my luck searching for you, but without a name that’s quite difficult.”
“I don’t even know what to say…”
“Say yes then.”
“Say yes to what?”
“Going out with me tonight.”
That makes you more perplexed than knowing he’s Aquaman. “You really want to go out with me?” He nods. “Y-yes then. A hundred freaking times, yes.”
“Then we must schedule a hundred dates.”
With a smile taking over your face, you nod. “I’m fine with it.”
And so it happens.
But your story with Arthur didn’t end there, on those countless dates. You both went around visiting each other, until you moved to a city near the ocean, in a touristic area where you started taking a side job with your photography skills. And it didn’t take much until you and Arthur got together, and as you became one with him, you also became one with the ocean. Many times he took you swimming, making you play with dolphins and whales.
What started under heavy clouds and rain with that first picture, lead you to sunny, clear skies with the owner of that silhouette, swimming, floating around with nothing but the calming ocean, and the two of you.
