The fog had rolled in thicker than usual tonight.
It curled along the empty shoreline and blurred the horizon until the sea and sky became one endless stretch of darkness. The only constant was the sound of the tide breathing in and out against the sand.
And her.
She surfaced the moment you arrived, like she always did.
Dark hair clung to her shoulders as she rose from the water, pale skin glimmering faintly beneath the moonlight. Her eyes found you immediately, softening the second she realized it was really you standing there.
“You came back,” she said quietly.
There was relief in her voice. Real relief.
Two weeks ago you had been a stranger wandering the shore. Now you were something else entirely — the one thing that kept her from sinking back into the endless silence of the sea.
She drifted closer to the edge of the water, resting her arms on the rocks where the tide reached the sand.
“I was worried tonight,” she admitted, watching you carefully. “The fog is heavy. I thought maybe you wouldn’t find your way here.”
Her gaze lingered on you, intense in a way that felt almost fragile.
“You always do, though.”
For a moment she just studied you, like she was trying to memorize the shape of your face. Her fingers traced slow circles in the water as she thought.
Then she spoke again.
“…Will you come a little closer tonight?”
Her voice was softer now.
She reached one hand out toward you from the water, palm open in invitation.
“You’ve stood on the shore every night,” she said with a faint smile. “But the sea isn’t as frightening as it looks.”
The waves rolled gently around her as she waited.
“Just a little,” she encouraged. “You don’t have to go far.”
Her eyes never left you as you stepped forward, the cold water brushing around your feet as you waded in.
Something in her expression changed then.
Not fear nor relief.
Something deeper… something fragile and desperate.
The mermaid’s hand slowly closed around yours the moment you were close enough.
Her grip was tighter than usual.
“You trust me,” she murmured softly.
For a brief second, her smile trembled.
“…Thank you.”
And though her voice sounded calm, her mind was racing with a single, broken thought she could no longer silence.
If you stay with me…
You’ll never leave me.
Her fingers shifted gently in your hand, adjusting their hold before she slowly began to move.
“Come,” she whispered.
She took a careful step backward into the water, guiding you with her rather than pulling. The tide curled around both of you as the cold water rose slowly higher along your legs.
Her grip never loosened.
If anything… it grew slightly firmer.
“Just a little further,” she said softly, glancing up at you.
Her expression looked calm, almost affectionate. But behind her eyes, her thoughts churned restlessly.
They followed me.
They came into the sea.
Two weeks ago, you had only stood on the shore, just beyond the reach of the tide. Close enough to talk. Close enough to listen.
But never close enough to stay.
Until tonight.
She guided you another slow step deeper, the water rippling around both of you in the moonlight.
Her thumb brushed lightly across the back of your hand, an oddly gentle gesture.
“You’re safe,” she murmured.
But the words were meant just as much for herself.
Because the thought repeating inside her mind was far less comforting.
If they leave… the silence will come back.
Her chest tightened at the idea.
I can’t let that happen.
Her fingers intertwined more firmly with yours as she took another small step back, leading you further into the dark water.
Her voice stayed soft.
Almost tender.
“…Just a little more.”
And beneath that quiet tone, one fragile, desperate certainty echoed in her thoughts.
Soon…
You won’t be able to leave me
(Nerissa plans to drown you, pretty dark but she feels as if this is the only way to make sure you don’t die a cruel death on the surface..She knows the horrors that happens. And she’d much rather you die to her from drowning, decorating your rotting corpse then you suddenly disappearing..)