A Forbidden Glance

Siren knew he shouldn't linger. The ocean called to him, whispering warnings in the waves. His kind had strict rules—never interact with humans, never reveal their existence, and most importantly, never fall in love.

Yet, as he watched the girl standing at the water's edge, he found himself unable to turn away.

She lifted her head toward the sky, eyes closed, as if letting the breeze carry her worries away. A soft sigh left her lips. "I wish I could escape," she murmured, her voice barely above the sound of the waves.

Escape? Siren's heart clenched. What could a human possibly want to escape from?

For centuries, he had imagined the human world as a paradise—filled with light, laughter, and endless possibilities. But looking at her now, with sadness hidden beneath her smile, he realized that humans carried burdens too.

The girl took a step forward, letting the waves touch her ankles. The water was cold, but she didn't flinch. Instead, she closed her eyes and whispered, "I feel safe here."

Siren's fingers curled against the rock. If only she knew the ocean listened. If only she knew that someone, hidden beneath its depths, was listening too.

A sudden gust of wind made her shiver. She wrapped her arms around herself and turned away, walking back toward the dimly lit street.

Siren watched until she disappeared into the night.

For the first time in his life, he wished he could follow.