A Mermaid for the Lonely

The Breath of the Sea

The storm outside continued to rage, a force of nature that could not be tamed. The churning of the water in the alcove had intensified, and with each passing moment, Lyam could feel the pressure in his chest growing heavier, as though the ocean itself was sinking its weight upon him. His breaths were becoming shallower, more labored, and the cold water around him seemed to tighten its grip.

His hand remained in Sirène's, but it felt weaker now, the strength in his fingers fading with every second. He tried to focus on her, on the strange, comforting presence she provided, but his mind was growing hazy. The vastness of the ocean was closing in on him.

"Sirène..." he whispered, his voice a rasp.

Her silver eyes snapped to his, a flicker of something uncharacteristic passing through her expression—concern. No, not just concern. Fear.

She could feel it too. The way his chest was constricting, the way the water pressed down on him, cutting off his access to the precious air he needed to survive. Time was running out, and she knew it.

"We need to get you to the surface," she said, her voice calm but edged with urgency. "But we can't... not yet."

Lyam tried to nod, but even that simple movement felt like a monumental effort. He glanced toward the entrance of the alcove, where the water continued to swirl in a chaotic dance. There was no way they could break through the storm above them now, and even if they could, they were too far from shore to make it in time. His lungs burned with the need for oxygen, and a deep, primal fear began to claw at him.

"Hold on," Sirène said suddenly, her grip tightening on his hand. She was thinking, her mind working faster than he could follow, and then her eyes widened with realization. "There's a place... a pocket of air. It's close. But... it might be too far."

Lyam didn't have the energy to question her. He trusted her—he had no choice but to trust her. The world was slipping further from his grasp, and all that remained was the feel of her hand in his, the way her voice seemed to tether him to reality, and the faint hope that she could save him.

Without waiting for his response, Sirène moved. She wrapped her arm around his waist, holding him close to her as she propelled them both out of the alcove and into the swirling depths of the stormy ocean. The currents were wild, pulling at them with relentless force, but Sirène swam with determination, her tail slicing through the water as she pushed toward the reef she had remembered.

The cavern with the pocket of air.

Lyam felt the cold water rushing past them, his vision blurring as his body grew heavier, his chest tightening with a fierceness that made him want to gasp, to pull in a breath that wasn't there. He could feel the sharp pangs of panic setting in, but his body was too weak to react. His grip on Sirène's waist loosened as his strength ebbed away.

Sirène glanced back at him, her silver eyes wide, and in that moment, something shifted in her. She didn't know why she felt the sudden rush of terror. She didn't understand why her heart was pounding so hard, why her mind was racing with a sense of dread. She didn't feel human emotions—she never had. But this... this was fear. Raw, undeniable fear that Lyam wasn't going to make it.

No. She couldn't lose him. Not here, not now.

The cavern was still too far away. She could see it now, a dark shadow in the distance, but it might as well have been miles from where they were. Lyam's breaths were coming in shorter and shorter bursts, and the way his eyes were fluttering shut made her stomach twist in ways she couldn't explain.

She had to do something.

And then, an idea came to her—an instinct, perhaps. Something she had never done before, never even considered. But right now, it was all she had.

She stopped swimming for a brief second, turning to face Lyam. His eyes were half-closed, his body limp in her arms. There was no time to waste. With no other option, she pressed her lips to his.

It wasn't like the kisses she had seen in human stories. It wasn't soft or romantic, but urgent, desperate. Sirène breathed out the last of her air into Lyam's mouth, forcing the precious oxygen into his lungs. She felt his body jerk slightly as the air reached him, but it wasn't enough. He needed more.

She pulled back for a moment, her mind racing, before sealing her lips against his again, pushing every bit of air she could muster into him. Her lips lingered on his longer this time, and for the first time, she realized how fragile he was. How human he was.

Lyam stirred in her arms, his eyes fluttering open as he inhaled the breath she had given him. There was a brief moment of clarity in his gaze, and then he realized what was happening—her lips on his, her breath filling his lungs. It wasn't a kiss born of affection or love, but in his hazy, oxygen-deprived mind, it felt like something more. Her closeness, her desperation to save him—it stirred something deep within him.

When she pulled back this time, her gaze met his, and for a second, the storm around them seemed to vanish. All that existed was the space between them, the silent connection that had formed between their two worlds.

Sirène didn't waste any more time. She kept one arm firmly wrapped around Lyam as she kicked harder, swimming backward toward the cavern's opening. The reef loomed ahead, the shadowy outline of the pocket of air just within reach. She pushed forward with everything she had, her tail propelling them faster through the chaotic waters, the cavern's mouth growing closer, closer...

They broke through the opening just as Lyam's body sagged again in her grip. Sirène surged upward, her heart pounding as she broke the surface of the water inside the cavern. The pocket of air was small, but it was enough. She pushed Lyam up, her own chest heaving as she gasped for breath, the cold air filling her lungs.

Lyam coughed, his body shaking as he gasped for air, his chest rising and falling in rapid bursts. He leaned back against the cavern wall, his eyes wide and unfocused, his breathing ragged. But he was alive. He was still breathing.

Sirène hovered in the water beside him, her own breaths coming fast and uneven. She watched him with an intensity she didn't fully understand. She had saved him, but why had it felt so... personal? Why had the thought of losing him made her feel like she was drowning too?

Lyam slowly lifted his gaze to hers, his eyes hazy with exhaustion, but there was something else there too—something more than just gratitude.

"You saved me," he whispered, his voice hoarse.

Sirène nodded, her throat tight. She didn't trust herself to speak.

For a long moment, they simply stared at each other, the air between them heavy with unspoken words. The storm still raged outside, but in this small cavern, there was a fragile stillness. A moment of quiet that neither of them dared to break.

Lyam's hand reached for hers, his fingers trembling slightly as they found hers in the water. He didn't say anything more, but his touch said enough. It wasn't just gratitude or relief—it was something deeper. Something that Sirène, for all her lack of human emotions, was beginning to understand.

As they sat there, side by side in the safety of the cavern, the reality of what had just happened slowly sank in. Sirène had given him her breath, her life. And in that moment, something had shifted between them. Something that neither of them could deny.

The storm would pass. The ocean would calm. But whatever had been forged between them in the depths of the sea was far from over.