He watched from the waves, the sea mist curling around him like a cloak. The world above was loud—storms, ships, mortals rushing through their fleeting lives—but here, near the shore where the salt kissed the sand, there was something… different.

You stood at the water’s edge, the wind tugging at your hair, eyes fixed on the horizon as if searching for something unseen.

Poseidon’s gaze sharpened. Not many mortals dared the sea like this—most feared it. But you… you moved with a quiet confidence, as if the tides answered to you.

He felt a pull stronger than any current, a silent call beneath the roar of the ocean.

“Who are you, that walks the line between land and sea?”

His voice was low, like the rumble of distant thunder beneath waves, and in that moment, the ocean held its breath.

Because Poseidon had never met anyone quite like you.

And maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t willing to let you go.