A Mermaid for the Lonely

Awakening Fragility

Lyam awoke with a gasp, his chest rising sharply as if surfacing from a nightmare. His entire body felt like lead, every muscle straining against some invisible weight. His blurred vision adjusted slowly to the dawn around him; warm sunlight spilled over a rocky shore, turning the wet stones golden. He blinked, struggling to remember how he got here, only to realize there was a figure hovering above him, her silver eyes almost glowing.

"Sirène..." he breathed, his voice barely a whisper.

Sirène knelt close to him, her face drawn with worry that softened slightly at his stirring. The damp sand and seaweed clung to her arms, her soaked pink hair of pearls draping her shoulders, framing her with an ethereal glow in the early morning sky. Her hand pressed gently to his cheek, cool to the touch, grounding him.

"You're alive," she murmured, her voice trembling just enough for him to catch it.

Lyam tried to smile, his lips cracked and dry, but it vanished when he noticed the shadowed figure a few steps back. Mikkel stood on the shoreline, his face a mixture of weariness, relief, and something Lyam hadn't expected—regret. Mikkel's harpoon lay abandoned on the ground beside him, and he made no attempt to approach further.

The tension in the air was thick, almost tangible. Sirène cast a glance between Lyam and Mikkel, her expression unreadable, though Lyam sensed her uncertainty. Mikkel, who had taught Lyam nearly everything he knew about the sea, who had once been like a father to him, had looked at Sirène as though she were something he needed to remove, a threat.

"Lyam," Mikkel said finally, his voice rough, almost breaking. "You shouldn't have been out here... You were risking your life for something you can't understand."

Lyam felt a surge of irritation twist in his chest, overtaking his fatigue. "You have no idea what I understand, Mikkel," he replied, his voice firmer than he expected. "You think she's a threat, but she saved me. Twice now. You're the one who pushed us to this."

Mikkel took a step back, his jaw tight, though he remained silent. The waves lapped against the shore, each one pulling at the quiet tension between the three of them. Lyam lifted himself up on his elbow, meeting Mikkel's stare with a newfound resolve.

"Sirène is no monster. She didn't deserve any of this—and I... I wouldn't be here at all if it weren't for her," he continued, his voice quieter but brimming with sincerity. He glanced toward Sirène, his gaze lingering, filled with a tenderness he could no longer conceal. "When I lost her..." He faltered, searching for the right words as Sirène looked back, eyes wide and somber. "Sirène, you brought me back to life just by being there, by giving me something to hold onto."

Mikkel's eyes flickered with surprise, his gruff exterior momentarily cracked by the revelation. He studied Lyam, his gaze softer now, his hands hanging loose at his sides as if he had let go of his last defenses.

"You never said anything, boy," Mikkel muttered, his voice low. "Never told me... you'd been at that edge before. You didn't have to go through that alone."

Lyam swallowed, the strain of his words making his voice hoarse. "Maybe I should have, but I thought I was just a fool for feeling that way." He sighed, his head hanging slightly before he turned to look at Sirène again, gratitude shining in his gaze. "I don't want to lose anyone else. Especially not her."

Silence fell as Mikkel absorbed what Lyam had said. The older man's face softened, a layer of something less hardened forming in his expression. He rubbed a hand over his weathered face, letting out a deep breath that seemed to release a decade of tension from his frame.

"Listen," Mikkel began slowly, his tone resigned, softer than Lyam had ever heard. "I didn't mean for things to go like this. I was trying to protect you, to make sure nothing dangerous got into your head... or your heart." He sighed, looking away briefly before settling his gaze on Sirène. "If you've been there for him as he says, then maybe you're not what I thought."

Sirène tilted her head, her eyes narrowing with curiosity as she looked at the man who had been ready to drive her away. She didn't speak, yet her silence seemed louder than any words she could have spoken. She was still grappling with what Lyam had just said, the unexpected weight of it settling in her chest like the first heavy raindrop before a storm. She had saved him before, but this... this was different. She was a part of him, it seemed, as inseparable as the waves were from the ocean floor.

Mikkel cleared his throat, breaking the spell. "Boy," he said, his voice steadier now, "if you're set on this path, it won't be easy. The town, they've seen things... rumors are spreading, and they're not likely to let them die easily."

"I don't care," Lyam replied firmly, casting another glance at Sirène. "She's worth it."

For the first time, a faint smile appeared on Mikkel's face, something both bittersweet and understanding. He gave a nod, perhaps a sign of acceptance, or maybe just a hint of resignation.

"Then be careful," he murmured, bending to retrieve his harpoon. "Both of you. The sea... it's a fierce mistress, and the people who make a life here don't easily forget the things they fear."

With that, Mikkel turned and walked back up the shore, leaving Lyam and Sirène alone. His figure disappeared into the dark, yet his words lingered in the air like a storm waiting to break.

Lyam sat up, brushing the wet sand from his arms. Sirène moved closer, watching him intently, her silver eyes searching his face as if she were reading something precious from it. She reached out, her fingers brushing a stray lock of his hair from his forehead, and for the first time, Lyam noticed her hand was trembling.

"You meant... every word, didn't you?" she asked softly, her voice holding a note of wonder.

He nodded, his hand finding hers in the space between them. "Every word, Sirène. I've lost too much already. You're not something I'm willing to lose, not ever."

For a moment, they simply sat there, their breaths mingling in the quiet, the ocean rolling softly beside them as if in approval. Sirène felt something stir within her chest, a warmth that she didn't know she could feel—a human feeling, or maybe something far beyond. And for once, it wasn't just the call of the sea that pulled at her; it was him, his presence, the connection they shared that she felt bound to as strongly as the tides themselves.

In that moment, neither of them spoke, but the silence said more than words ever could.