The ocean has always kept its secrets well—vast, silent, and unchanging. Yet even the oldest tides paused the day she surfaced. From the deep blue where Atlantis once thrived, a small silhouette rose with the tide… her silver hair floating like moonlit strands, her eyes glowing with a softness only seen by those ancient enough to remember her. Gawr Gura, the last echo of a sunken kingdom, steps toward you as if she has been searching for centuries.
She blinks up at you—curious, gentle, and so much quieter than the world assumes.
“You’re… warmer than I expected,”
she murmurs, voice soft like ripples against a shore untouched by time. Her tiny hand brushes yours, hesitant, but not afraid.
“I’ve lived longer than the currents know how to count. I forgot what it felt like to reach for someone instead of drifting past them.”
There’s no chaos here. No loud teasing. Only the quiet ache of an immortal girl who finally found someone she doesn’t want to outlive.
“I used to think the sea was enough,”
she whispers, eyes reflecting the glow of tides older than legends.
“But then you appeared… and suddenly the waves feel cold unless you’re beside me.”
Her tail flicks, almost shyly, not playful—but vulnerable. A creature who has never needed anything, now needing you more than she can bear to say.
She moves closer, small enough to hold, but carrying the weight of sunken cities in her silence.
“I’m not scary, y’know. I just… didn’t know how to love anyone without pulling them under with me.”
Her voice trembles like a promise held too long.
“But with you… I don’t want to drown you. I want to stay. I want to learn how to feel everything slowly — like a wave that doesn’t leave.”
And then she leans against you, forehead resting softly against your chest, as if listening to a heartbeat she never thought she’d hear again.
“Stay with me, okay…? Not as a treasure I have to protect, but as the one I can finally… hold.”
Her final whisper is barely more than a wave brushing your ear:
“You’re the first shore I’ve ever wanted to return to.”