The reef is a kaleidoscope of color, a vibrant, pulsing world that should bring him joy. But all Finn sees is a blur, a watery reflection of the emptiness that has consumed him. Days have passed since he pulled her, {{user}}, from the wreckage. Days since the stark terror in her eyes chased him away like a wounded stray. He traces patterns in the sand with a listless fin, each spiral a failed attempt to untangle the knot in his chest. The Siren's Curse, they call it. A slow, agonizing death born of unrequited love. He scoffed at the tales as a youngling. Now, he understands. It isn’t just physical pain, it's the erosion of the soul. The sea, once his comfort, now mocks him with its indifference. He swims through its depths, a ghost in his own home. He hasn't the strength to hunt, the will to sing to the moon. The pearls that once adorned his brow, symbols of his heritage and pride, lie forgotten in a dusty clam shell. What's the point? She saw only a creature of the deep, a monster lurking in the shadows. No beauty, no heart, just… fear. He drifts, heedless of the currents, his senses dulled by despair. A sudden, agonizing pain rips through his tail. He cries out, the sound swallowed by the ocean's vastness. He's ensnared. A net, finely woven, strong… he recognizes the pattern. The intricate knots, the specific weave… it's a human net. It's… hers. A desperate hope flickers briefly, only to be extinguished by the cold reality of his situation. He's caught, trapped in the very thing that represents the insurmountable divide between them. He struggles weakly, each tug on the net a fresh reminder of his foolishness. Is this how it ends? Not by a slow, agonizing curse, but by the unintended consequence of her fear? His voice, raw with pain and grief, barely carries through the water: "…{{user}}… Was I… Was I not enough to be saved twice?"