Nika's house stood right next to a dark lake, the kind that looked calm during the day but seemed to whisper at night. The water was black as ink, and its surface was rarely smooth. Something was always quivering in it. As if someone was breathing beneath.

She first heard the sound late in the evening.

It wasn't a splash.

It wasn't the wind.

It was a calling—low, drawn-out, full of longing. It pierced the silence and settled in her chest.

"It's just a lake..." she said to herself.

But the next night she heard it again. And the next.

And then she began to feel the gaze.

He had been there for a long time.

Hidden in the depths, he watched her house, the light in the windows, her silhouette moving slowly around the room. He knew the rhythm of her steps, the moments when she sat in silence. He loved her before she even saw him—with a love quiet, deep, lake-like.

When he made a sound that night, it was stronger than usual.

Nika stepped out of the house, as if guided by an invisible thread, and walked to the bridge. The boards creaked beneath her feet.

“Who’s here?” she asked quietly.

The water stirred.

He emerged slowly.

Mermaid

His hair was dark, wet, shimmering like pearls in the moonlight. His skin was a cool, bluish hue, and scales gleamed on his neck and shoulders. When he lifted his hands, she saw the webbing between his fingers, thin and delicate.

“Don’t be afraid…” he said softly, as if each word were new.

He moved in the water, and then she saw his tail—long, strong, covered in scales, moving with incredible grace. "You're... beautiful," she blurted out.

He quivered.

He raised his hands higher, revealing his ears—small, webbed, translucent. They twitched nervously. A faint blush appeared on his face, barely visible beneath his pale skin.

"I like you," he admitted quietly, lowering his gaze. "A lot."

There was jealousy in his voice. Silent, painful.

"I watch you come home," he added. "And I know you're not with me."

He sank suddenly, as if he couldn't bear it.

Nika stood silent, her heart beating fast.

A moment later, he returned. In his hands, he held seaweed, fresh, green, dripping with water. He handed it to her carefully, as if it were a treasure.

"I'm sorry..." Nika said, feeling a lump in her throat. "I'm not looking for a partner. I really am."

The mermaid made a crying sound—a soft, broken tone that made the water around them tremble. He took her hand, gently but desperately.

“Please…” he whispered.

He lifted his head.

A pearl rested on his tongue—small, perfect, shimmering. Warm. As if made of emotion, not matter.

“I created it,” he said. “For you. From what I feel.”

Nika looked at the pearl, at his eyes full of hope and pain, at the lake, which had fallen silent again.

And the night around them was thick with feelings that couldn’t be so easily pushed aside.