Echos of the deep

Eros

The morning sun spilled into the dining room, bathing the rustic wooden table in soft light. Layla sat nervously, her fingers toying with the hem of her sweater. Across from her sat her grandparents, Delancey and Michael Everly, their curious gazes locked on the mysterious boy who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

"So," Michael began, his voice gruff but not unkind. "He saved you from drowning last night?"

Layla nodded, her heart pounding. "Yeah. He... uh, pulled me out when I got caught in a riptide."

"She's not a great swimmer," the boy added nonchalantly, leaning back in his chair like he belonged there.

Delancey arched an eyebrow. "And what's your name, young man?"

Layla froze, her mind racing. They hadn't discussed this part of the story. She glanced at him, wide-eyed, and found him staring back. For a moment, neither spoke.

"Eros!" Layla blurted out, her cheeks flushing. "His name is Eros."

Delancey tilted her head, her sharp gaze narrowing slightly. "Eros? Isn't that the name of one of your favorite characters from that show you watch?"

Layla swallowed hard but forced a smile. "Yeah, it is! That's actually how we became friends last night. Turns out he likes the same show, and—well, his name just happens to be Eros too. Isn't that unique?"

Delancey's expression softened into an amused smile. "The world sure does have its wonders."

Michael, however, remained focused. "So, Eros, where are you from?"

Eros hesitated for a fraction of a second, then offered a small smile. "I'm from across the ocean. I've only recently moved here. Don't really have a place to stay yet."

Delancey chuckled warmly, her gaze twinkling with nostalgia. "Well, aren't you just a little cutie?" She leaned back in her chair, a wistful smile gracing her lips. "It's okay, Eros. You don't have to hide it. I ran away too when I was your age."

"Delancey," Michael warned softly, but she waved him off.

"No matter how hard life gets, you're never alone," she said, reaching across the table to pat Eros on the hand.

Michael grinned faintly, his own nostalgia surfacing. "And to think I snatched you from a prince."

Delancey laughed, the sound light and carefree. "You did, didn't you? I guess I've always had a thing for wanderers."

Eros smiled politely, nodding along as Layla squirmed in her seat. She couldn't tell if this was going better or worse than she'd expected.

After breakfast, Layla dragged Eros outside, leading him to the sandy shore. The ocean stretched before them, glittering under the midmorning sun. They sat on the damp sand, the waves lapping gently at their feet.

Eros stared out at the horizon, his expression distant. "There's a ton of us out there," he said suddenly. "Mermen, mermaids. We don't really talk to each other. We just... wander, aimless and alone."

Layla hugged her knees, her chest tightening at the thought. "Why?"

He shrugged, his gaze still fixed on the water. "It's just how we are. Most of us only show up when people are heartbroken or alone. It's easier that way."

She frowned, glancing at him. "Is that why you showed up for me?"

Eros didn't answer right away. Instead, he turned to her, his dark eyes unreadable. "You gave me the name Eros," he said softly.

"Well, you didn't have one," she retorted, trying to sound lighthearted. "I can't just talk to you—or introduce you—without a name."

He chuckled, a sound that seemed almost foreign coming from him. "It's fine. I don't mind the name Eros. It... suits me."

Layla studied him, the weight of the past day settling heavily