The Pull of the Surface

Siren remained on the rock long after the girl had disappeared, staring at the empty shore. His heart ached with a longing he didn't understand.

For centuries, he had been warned that humans were dangerous, that they destroyed everything they touched. Yet, she hadn't seemed dangerous at all. She had seemed… fragile. As if she, too, did not belong in the world she lived in.

The waves lapped against his tail, urging him to return home. He knew he should. The elders would scold him if they sensed his absence. His brothers and sisters would whisper among themselves, wondering why he was so different, why he always stared toward the land instead of embracing the depths.

He slid into the water, letting it envelop him, but the ocean no longer felt like home. It was suffocating. He wanted—no, needed—to see her again.

His fingers brushed his chest, right above where his heart beat steadily.

What was this feeling?

A curse?

A punishment?

Or was it fate?

Siren exhaled, bubbles rising to the surface.

He had spent centuries avoiding the human world.

But now… he wasn't sure he could stay away.