My, What Big Teeth You Have

Siren Girlfriend (Isa) x female reader - 1

The first time you see her, she's on the floor, cowering under the threatening shovels and rakes of the farmers and being pelted with rotten produce by their wives.

"Stop!" You shout, unable to fathom why they would treat a person so cruelly.

They have their petty suspicions of you, but never would they go this far. At least, you hope they wouldn't.

"Leave her be," you plant yourself in front of the woman, causing the people to halt. "How can you do this?"

"She bewitched a man!" People in the crowd call out.

"And what proof do you have of that?" You ask, putting your hands on your hips.

The people glance at each other. No one seems sure of who started this claim. No one looks particularly sorry though. You scan the crowd until you see Mrs. Borough yanking angrily at her son's arm, trying to drag him away. The young man seems to be complaining and clutching at his bulging crotch.

"Donny Borough," you call to him in a tone like honeyed poisoned. "Do you have anything to say?"

You've lived here long enough to know that he's trouble and with that in mind, this probably has something to do with him.

"No," Mrs. Borough snaps. "We were just leaving."

She just about runs away, dragging her son by his ear. He stumbles after her, cursing. You turn your attention to the crowd.

"Shame on you all," you say. "Never raise a single finger in violence unless you know the reason that you are doing it for and that the reason is just."

The crowd melts away under the heat of your words until you and the woman are alone.

"I'm sorry this happened," you say, turning to her and extending a hand. "I mean you no harm."

Only then does she lift her head, fixing beautiful green eyes on you.

"I did not mean to entrance him," she says huskily, taking your hand, her dirty, chipped fingernails rasping at your palm. "I was so hungry and he told me sweet things."

"He lies," you say gently. "That particular one is not to be trusted. If you come with me, I can offer you food and shelter for a day, until you can gain your footing."

She plucks self-consciously at her threadbare dress, blushing a little. "I accept your offer. Thank you."

You can't help but look at her and wonder who she is and where she comes from. Her dress is of luxurious tailoring, even if it's now old, dirty, and torn. The necklace she wears is still in good condition, an azure gem lying nestled in the hollow of her neck. Her eyes though, look amused and confused at the same time as she peers around her.

Maybe she's fallen on hard times, or something has happened to cause her to lose her bearings because she doesn't seem to know where she is.

"I'll lead the way," you say. "I have soup at home."

She follows you, stumbling every now and then. You glance at her and notice she's barefooted.

"You don't have shoes?" You ask.

"No," she says cautiously.

Her feet look as tender as that of a newborn baby. All of her skin does. Like she has been living a life of luxury until now. That doesn't make sense either, but you shake it off.

"I have a second pair you can use," you tell her.

"I have done nothing to earn such kindness," she says. "And yet you give it to me."