Gentle sunlight streamed in through the thin curtains of the living room as your phone buzzed loudly against the wooden side table. You woke with a snort, a dried sliver of drool crusty on your chin. Falling asleep on the couch was not a good idea, but the tea from last night calmed you down enough to drift back to sleep against the old stained cushions. You didn't dream again.
Thoughts of the previous day flitted across your vision as you readied yourself for work; however, until you could make it back out to the ocean this afternoon, the familiarity and responsibility of routine called out to you. Bills needed to be paid, after all.
As you rode the train to work, flecks of red, gold, and blue captured your attention like a moth to the flame: A red shirt. Gold earrings. Deep blue backpack. The colors were jarring as you recalled images of your bizarre dream, trapped in an endless expanse of ocean, helpless against the current of gravity as it pulled you down.
The darkness surrounding you splintered against an invasion of red.
Work was dull and typical. It wasn't your dream job by any means, but the paycheck was decent enough for you to scrimp and save to put down a deposit on a nicer place at some point in the future. A voice behind you interrupted your train of thought, mind wandering to the salty familiarity of the ocean coupled with possible hidden treasures in the form of merpeople.
"Hey! You doin' alright? Seem kinda out of it today." It was one of your coworkers. The two of you weren't exactly friends, but the closeness of your desks had you communicating just because of proximity. Not that they were rude or anything, but sometimes they were...nosy, the boredom and monotony of work giving them an excuse for a minute of chatter.
You looked up from your paperwork, plastering on an inviting smile.
"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just sort of out of it today, ya know? We all have those days." Indeed, some were tougher to get through than others, but wasn't that true of most jobs? Was anyone truly happy day-in and day-out for eternity doing the same thing? If so, you'd never met them.
Laughing in a way that seemed suspiciously fake, your coworker nodded in response. "Aint that right!" They continued to pepper you with distracting conversation until your boss passed by, eyes glancing quickly over them; coughing, they returned to their desk with a huff. The rest of day was far more silent.
Before heading back to the beach, you grabbed the bus back home, wanting to change into more comfortable clothes. After changing, you passed by the mirror near the front door, giving yourself a once over. You spent an extra minute fixing your hair up a bit before catching yourself, cheeks heating up at the idea of trying to make yourself slightly more presentable for what was probably an average routine, an unextraordinary evening out on the pier. Just another day...right?
The beach was closer to your apartment in comparison to work, so you normally walked straight there from your home. Passing by the food vendor you grabbed two snacks this time, taking one in each hand before heading over to the pier.
It was a bit earlier in the day, the sun resting just above the cross-section of ocean and sky, a reflection of glitter sprinkled on the shifting water. Taking off your shoes, your feet dangled once more over the edge of the pier, eyes scanning and ears listening for any sign of movement against the water; an unexpected splash, something to signal the presence of something – or someone – close by.
One of the hashimaki sat in a cardboard bowl as you held the other one to your mouth, the smell of grilled octopus and cabbage mixing with the salty scent of fresh sea water and damp wood. Turning around, your eyes scanned behind you and along the beach for anyone close by; someone who might disturb any...visitors who might not want to be seen otherwise. Luckily it was the middle of the week; the weekends often drew in loud families and adventurous swimmers leaving the remaining days fairly desserted.
A small splash below you caught your attention, drawing your eyes down over the side of the pier into the murky water. The glare of red eyes unnerved by the water mirrored your own stare. Your throat went dry as you struggled to swallow the bite of food in your mouth. He was just as strikingly beautiful as you remembered.
"Holy shit...so I wasn't dreaming. You're real, and I'm not a crazy person." His pale blonde hair turned light teal under the water as he lifted up slightly to look at you. Eyes of fire shifted quickly, however, to the food in your hand, growing wide as he seemed to recognize the snack you fed him the previous day. "Oh, you hungry? Well you're in luck, because I got an extra one just in case."
Nose sniffing in the air, he swam closer, one cool webbed hand lifting out of the water to close down on your bare foot making you jump. You bit the inside of your cheek as his finger shifted on your skin; you were ticklish on your feet and silently hoped he did not know what 'tickling' was. Grabbing the other snack, you leaned down and held it out to him, nodding at him with a smile that it was safe to take. Never letting go of your foot, he snatched it with his other hand before sniffing at it to confirm that it was indeed the same as the previous day before shoving the whole thing in his mouth again, fangs glittering under his lips. He didn't eat like a human, that was for sure, chewing with his mouth open, jaw moving rapidly, food flying out of his mouth that he quickly picked up from the water. He didn't leave a single speck to waste.
You shifted as his other hand moved against your foot, apparently enamored by your toes though his attention was elsewhere. Finally, you laughed, covering your mouth quickly. Swallowing the remainder of his food slowly, his eyes flitted up to you.
"O-oh uh, I'm not laughing at you! Though, how you eat is kinda ridiculous...pfft! Haha! Shit!" Toes curled around his fingers by reflex, the clean hashimaki stick jutting out of his mouth as he looked from your flushed face down to your feet and back again. His other hand now free, both sets of webbed fingers massaged into the skin of your feet experimentally; red eyes never left your face.
On reflex you tried to bring your other leg up to protect it from the onslaught of tickling, but he was quick. He grabbed you by the ankle, one foot now in each hand. Your eyes were watering from trying to hold back your laughter, struggling to free yourself from his grip, but the muscles in his arms proved useful for something other than just propelling him effortlessly through the water. His fingers drifted over your skin, the slight tug of textured skin leaving behind a pathway of memory as he grazed over your bones, muscles, tissue. A finger found it's way between a couple of toes, wiggling in the space, your muscles reactionary as they curled around him like an embrace. He smirked at the look on your face, realizing what he was doing could provide some interesting entertainment. God, that smirk suited him well, too.
"Haha n-no, no more!" Shaking your head from side to side, you gasped as you felt one clawed hand drift up past your foot to your ankle. His touch was light but firm, a thumb caressing over the joint. A voice in the back of your head whispered, "What the hell since when has touching feet felt so intimate?"
Before this got out of hand, you managed to yank one of your feet back onto the pier, the merman below you gaping at the sudden denial of your foot before his face contorted into a growl that might have looked intimidating if you weren't coming down from the high of laughter.
"Sorry, sorry...you can't tickle me all day," you conceded, wiping the tears from your eyes. Suddenly his touch disappeared, leaving a jarring emptiness in your gut. Looking back down, the merman stared at you, an expression of annoyance on his face before swiftly disappearing with a small splash under the shift of water. "Ah, wait! You can, uh...c'mon don't be so greedy! Let me have one foot, that's it!" Only silence echoed back.
The movement was so fast that you nearly fell back onto the pier from shock as the merman propelled himself out the water like a rocket, strong arms catching himself on the edge of the wood between your knees. His mouth opened nonchalantly to drop the clean hashimaki stick down onto the pier, reaffirming your idea that he disliked human waste in the waters that he called home. The close proximity of your faces, now only about a foot apart, made you stammer out a nervous laugh. Red and gold scales on his shoulders and arms glistened spectacularly against the sunset far in the distance giving him a radiant halo of splendor. You now saw the subtle gills on the sides of his neck, vibrating slightly as his chest moved with the rhythm of his breathing. Tilting his head to the side, he stared at you, eyes narrowed and brow furrowed. A webbed hand grazed across your thigh like an unexpected drop of rain. You knew your face was nearly the same shade as his eyes at this point. You swallowed hard, wondering what could possibly be passing through his head to end up in this position...until the hand holding your own hashimaki suddenly felt empty. His distraction proved effective, it seemed.
The merman stuffed your own snack into his mouth with a smirk, knowing his little game worked. You blinked at the realization that he was indeed intelligent and cunning, not just a handsome face with a fish tail.
"Wh...you little shit," you gritted out. He chuckled at your obvious annoyance as he licked the last bits of cabbage from his lips before taking the clean stick and flicking it into your forehead. "You're lucky you're cute or else I'd shove you right off this pier..."
Though he was done eating your stolen snack, he didn't move from his spot, arms now refolded atop one another, suspended above the open expanse of sea. Maybe this was an opportunity to see if he could do something other than just laugh at your agitation – he could laugh, so he had some sort of vocal chords, right?
"Um...can you talk?" You asked slowly, his ruby eyes watching the movement of your lips. No vocal response back. Opening your mouth, a light "aaaaaaaahhhh" came forth as you pointed from your own mouth to his, careful not to get too close to his fangs. You repeated the gesture, trying to see if he might mimic whatever you did in hopes of finding some attempt to communicate. Looking at you suspiciously, he opened his mouth to issue a curt "...aah". Well, it was something at least!
"So you can sort of talk? We can just practice for a bit, OK?" you noted with a nod. The merman nodded back.
"OK."
Your eye twitched at his mimed response. His voice like dark velvet in your ears from a single word, you wondered if he could actually understand what you were saying...but just couldn't respond properly? This was definitely something to research in the future.
You spoke in short, simple sentences to the merman, using gestures to help get certain ideas across. Sometimes, he picked a single word to speak back to you, voice low and enticing; other times he remained silent, merely staring at you with eyes that you suspected saw more than they let on. On more than one occasion he snickered at your exaggerated movements, making you consider he thought this whole situation yet another game of entertainment at your expense.
The darkness of night eventually passed over the pier, the sun dipping down below a blanket of dark blue and green waves at an unreachable horizon. You looked back over your shoulder, eyes scanning for the officer that disturbed you the previous day – so far, you were still alone.
Turning back to the merman in front of you, his head now resting against his forearms still nestled between your knees on the edge of the pier, you sighed. Today was an affirmation that you weren't dreaming, or delusional, or just imagining something to curb the lonely boredom of everyday turmoil. He was real, and that made you smile. Maybe it was a trick of the low light, but it almost looked like he smiled back.
You yawned, his eyes watching your mouth open, observing that your teeth were different from his own.
"Uh...I should go home," you conceded, tossing a thumb back over your shoulder pointing towards human civilization. "You should go too, before someone else notices you're here. I'll be back tomorrow though, OK?"
He seemed to understand that you were leaving as you shifted your feet up from the pier, the ball of your foot grazing the side of his tail accidentally. Shifting away from the touch, he growled at you – apparently him touching your legs was fine, but touching his tail was off-limits.
"Well that's a double standard...but maybe your tail is more sensitive than my legs?" The touch didn't linger long enough for you to really familiarize yourself with the texture, just a brief taste of moisture on your foot. Despite your growing curiosity on what his fish tail felt like, you pulled your feet all the way up, careful not to touch him again, wanting to respect his boundaries...and hopefully not scare him off if he assessed you as a possible threat.
You stood up, his eyes following you carefully as you wiped off the backs of your thighs from any possible splinters and debris. His annoyed expression faltered as you crouched back down, sad that the day was over but heart beating excitedly for what future evenings might hold. You held out your hand, hoping he understood it as a sort of peace offering, a sign that you acknowledged him and would return another day. Slowly, a webbed hand retreated from under his chin, placing his palm gently in your own, claws grazing your skin like stiff feathers. You nodded, and he nodded in return before you pulled your hand away.
"Tomorrow...OK?"
"OK," the merman replied, low and quiet in the darkness of the pier. You weren't sure if he understood, or was merely copying your words.
Standing up once more and gathering up your bag and the two discarded hashimaki sticks, you chanced one last look at the merman, observant eyes watching you. You waved goodbye, struggling to turn back around and head home, the pull of the ocean and irises of crimson weighing down your feet, movements sluggish and unenthused as you forced yourself forward.
A hand waved back in the shadows.
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