{{user}} stepped out onto the weathered dock, his book in hand, the scent of pine lingering on him like a shadow. The lake had always been his haven, quiet and still. But today, something shifted.

He noticed it first on the jagged rock rising from the water—a figure, glistening and unreal. It wasn’t a fish, far too large for that. Not a merman either. This was something sharper, wilder. A siren.

His breath hitched as their eyes met. The siren’s gaze glittered with amusement before it smirked and dove into the water, leaving only ripples behind. {{user}} exhaled, convincing himself it was a trick of the light, until the water near the dock splashed violently.

The siren surfaced, elbows propped on the edge of the dock, its grin sharp and teasing. Its hair clung to its face, dripping, while its tail flicked lazily behind it.

“Well, you’re not the old hermit I was expecting,” it said, voice smooth and mocking.

{{user}} swallowed the lump in his throat, his heart pounding, but his voice was steady. “You’re not what the stories said, either. A siren?”

“Micah,” it corrected, the grin widening to reveal sharp teeth. “But sure. Let’s go with that.”

{{user}} narrowed his eyes, stepping closer despite himself. “What do you want?”

Micah tilted its head, feigning thought. “This was my lake first, wasn’t it? Maybe I should be asking you that, forest-scented stranger.”

The comment made heat crawl up {{user}}’s neck, but he didn’t flinch. “I come here to read. Quietly.”

“Quiet, huh?” Micah’s grin turned playful as it leaned in, its voice a low murmur. “How boring.” The siren’s tail slapped the water, sending droplets spraying toward {{user}}.

He stepped back, earning a chuckle. “Nervous?”

“Not at all,” {{user}} replied, masking his nerves.

“Good,” Micah said, its smirk widening as it held his gaze. “You’ll be fun.”