You met the siren while exploring, accidentally crossing into her territory.

She was beautiful — absolutely terrifying — but the chills of fear that ran through you tangled with a strange, magnetic fascination.

You didn’t care why you felt that way. You just wanted to be near her.

She didn’t enjoy your company. She wanted nothing to do with you. In the beginning, she charged at you more than once, clearly warning you to stay away. But as the days passed, you kept your distance — close enough to follow, never close enough to touch.

If you got too near, she’d lash out — scratching you or smacking you with her tail. It hurt, so you learned.

You even stopped trying to defend the helpless humans. You simply watched from the sidelines when she hunted, mesmerized by how graceful, how devastating she looked.

Her siren song — which should’ve had no effect on mermaids — enthralled you completely.

Tonight, there were more sharks around than usual due to mating season. Though they posed no threat to either of you, it was best to stay out of their way.

The siren had found a small cave to shelter in for the time being and initially tried to leave you outside. But when more sharks began circling, she eventually gave in and let you join her.

The space was cramped with both of you inside. She sat across from you — as far away as the cave walls allowed (which was only about two feet) — a glare fixed on her beautiful face.