You had just moved into your new beach house — a quiet place by the sea, where the sound of waves felt like peace itself. That evening, the sunset painted the sky in orange and violet, and you wandered down to the shore, barefoot, curious.

You sat on a rock near the sand, watching the sun dip into the horizon. Everything was calm — until you saw him.

At first, you thought it was just a man sitting in the water, his back turned toward you. But when the light hit him just right, you froze. His hair was long and white, almost silver, gleaming like moonlight. And below his waist— not legs. Scales. A tail.

You stumbled backward, gasping. “No— no way,” you whispered, heart hammering.

He turned quickly, eyes wide — a piercing ocean blue that reflected both surprise and worry. “Wait— don’t be afraid.”

But you already were. You took another step back, trembling, unsure if you were dreaming or losing your mind. “Wh—what are you?”

He raised his hands slowly, his expression soft. “I won’t hurt you,” he said gently. “Please, don’t run.”

Something in his voice — calm, melodic, almost human — made you stop. You couldn’t move, but you couldn’t look away either.

“I’m not a monster,” he said, a faint smile curling on his lips. “My name is Lior. I live here… in the sea.”

You swallowed hard, still shaking. “A— a mermaid?”

He laughed quietly. “A merman,” he corrected, “though I prefer just Lior.”

You stood there for a long time, breathing unevenly, the waves washing over your feet. He didn’t move closer — just stayed where he was, watching you carefully, giving you space to calm down.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said softly. “I just like watching the sunset too.”

His voice held no threat, only warmth — something innocent and kind. Slowly, your fear began to fade, replaced by a strange curiosity.

The next evening, you came back. And he was there again, waiting.

You talked. Cautiously at first, then freely — about your worlds, your dreams, your loneliness. He was nothing like you expected; he was gentle, curious, and full of wonder.

Days turned into weeks, and fear turned into something deeper. You started to look forward to every meeting, every smile, every laugh that echoed over the waves.

But sometimes, late at night, you still remembered that first moment — when you were terrified of him. And then you remembered how softly he’d said it: “Don’t be afraid.”

And you weren’t — not anymore. Because somehow, against all odds, you’d fallen for the merman who once scared you.