A Mermaid for the Lonely

~ A Rainy Day ~

The morning started with a steady patter of rain drumming against the roof of the boat, creating a gentle rhythm that filled the otherwise quiet dawn. Lyam had woken early, as usual, but seeing the sky heavy with thick, gray clouds and the water choppy with misty rain, he decided that today would be a day for something rare: doing nothing.

He watched as Sirène stirred from her favorite spot near the open window where she could feel the cool sea air while she slept. When she noticed the rain streaming down the glass, her eyes widened with curiosity. Rain was always something she could only observe from underwater or feel in brief moments when she surfaced. Watching it from within their cozy boat was a new experience.

"It's beautiful," she murmured, pressing her fingers to the glass as though she could catch the droplets on the other side. "It's like the sea falling from the sky."

Lyam chuckled, pulling a blanket over his shoulders and handing another to her. "You could say that," he agreed. "Sometimes, it's good to let it fall and rest. That's what we're doing today—nothing but resting."

Sirène looked at him with a hint of wonder, a question forming in her mind. "But... don't we have things we should be doing?"

Lyam smiled, his gaze warm. "Not today. We get to stay right here and just... exist for a bit."

As they settled down together, the quiet of the boat filled with the sound of rain and the occasional creak of wood as the vessel rocked gently with the waves. Lyam stretched out on the makeshift couch he'd put together from crates and cushions, gesturing for Sirène to join him. She did, curling up beside him, her head resting against his shoulder, the warmth of the blankets around them.

For a while, they simply lay there in a comfortable silence, listening to the rain and the waves. Lyam stroked Sirène's hair absentmindedly, feeling an overwhelming sense of peace in having her close, in sharing something so ordinary yet so intimate with her.

"Tell me about a rainy day you've had," she said softly, breaking the quiet.

Lyam thought for a moment, remembering a similar day back in his town. "When I was young, we used to sit by the fireplace and play card games when it rained. My mother and father would join in, and even if we didn't have much, we always had fun. The whole world felt smaller on days like those, like everything that mattered was right there in the same room."

Sirène listened intently, her eyes soft. "I would've liked that," she murmured. "But I think I like this too. Being here with you... it makes the rain feel different."

They spent the morning sharing quiet stories and simple moments, with Lyam making them a pot of tea over the small burner in their boat's galley. He brought a steaming mug to Sirène, watching as her eyes lit up at the warmth and flavor. She sipped it carefully, savoring the taste.

As the rain continued, they watched the world through the window, pointing out the way the rain created small ripples on the water's surface, the mist blurring the distant horizon into something magical and ethereal.

Later, Lyam brought out a few seashells he'd found on the shore during their last stop and offered one to Sirène. It was a small, delicate thing, a spiral that glistened faintly in the low light of the rainy day.

"For you," he said, placing it in her hand. "Something to remember today by."

She looked at him, her eyes filled with something unspoken, her fingers curling around the shell as she held it to her heart. "Thank you, Lyam," she whispered.

He leaned closer, their foreheads touching, and they stayed that way, wrapped up in the warmth of each other and the sound of the rain, their own private world drifting along with the waves.