Chapter Text
Mermaids exist —and that’s one of the world’s worst-kept secrets.
They’ve lurked in the seas long before time ever began, watching the happenings of humans from within the waves with morbid fascination. Creatures just like them, only with legs in the place of a tail. And though the expanse of the ocean was far greater, humans utilized their quaint amount of domain of land to the fullest. It was enriching and lived in, and not a single inch of space went underutilized—though, whether or not that was a good thing depended on who you asked.
But just as mysteries and adventure beckoned many a sailor to their doom beneath unforgiving seas, the charm of progress and innovation aboard land proved a similar siren call to those that dwell beneath the water’s surface…
So it was only natural that, come enough time, the two would eventually meet. Twin curiosities united together—one satisfying the other.
The only definitive, dividing boundary between the two worlds…resides where the ocean meets the shoreline.
And that was a line easily blurred.
. . .
. . .
…
Cole’s life is hilariously ironic.
Down to his very soul, he's a simple man of the earth through and through. He loves the feel of a cliff against his palms while climbing mountains, the crunch of dirt beneath him as he hikes along a trail, and even finds himself enthralled whenever a quake ripples through the ground. He loves plants, and watching things grow, and marveling at the many shapes and colors a flower can exist in. It’s easy for him to understand why his mother was drawn to all the land had to offer as well.
…And yet, the ocean still inexplicably called out to him.
He uses the excuse that the sea is his muse: he does his best thinking here, gets inspired for new setlists for his nightclub DJ gigs, finds a renewed motivation to draw whenever he gazes into the mysteries of the waves. …but, while all of that is true, there’s a deeper reason for the allure.
Normally, he puts his headphones on while he draws, to really zen out while getting lost in his literal sea of creativity. But lately…there’s a certain subject of the sea that he can’t help but have his eye on.
...and also an ear.
Cole's gaze falls shut, letting his hearing become the dominant sense. It takes a few minutes, but Cole catches it—mellifluous notes born from a voice of velvet, copying the ocean waves as they both crash against the coast. Though no words are formed within the melody, there's still a beckoning quality to it, one that’s pulled Cole's attention since the very first time he'd been privy to it.
And with a song so enchanting, it could only be conjured up by a creature both musician and magician in equal parts.
Hoisting his bag of art supplies closer to his body, Cole moves stealthily along the rocks beneath the pier, down to a secret spot he's been visiting frequently.
From this vantage point, he can see —the mermaid that sings the song of sirens.
The lithe merman lies himself upon his favorite rock at the height of noon, basking in the unmarred rays of the sun. The scattering light makes the pink scales of his tail glitter like the stars of a late evening sky. The tip of his translucent tail-fin traces absent circles in the water, in time with the beat of the ethereal notes tumbling from his lips. The song floats along the sea breeze, capable of fishing in boats just as boats fish in...well, fish.
A lesser human, certainly, would fall victim to those dulcet tones in a heartbeat. Cole would claim he is not a lesser man, but…not even he is immune to the charm.
Still, the merman seems to only sing for his own pleasure and amusement; the notes aren’t loud nor intense enough to truly drag a sailor into the depths. No, Cole can tell—the creature’s only singing for the joy of it…and when fueled by the pure act of creation, that’s when the most memorable art is made.
Perched upon his own rock, though one bathed in cool shadows as opposed to the welcoming sun, Cole sketches the scene before him–the latest in his growing batch of mermaid-themed illustrations.
He's a bit upset that he can’t capture the song itself in strokes of charcoal, but he does his best to put the rest of the mer’s striking features to paper—the silly swoop of his pink-tipped burgundy hair, each fishy prong of his extra little fins, the delicate droplets that cascade down the expanse of his back, the way the sparkling scales of his tail fade into smooth sun-kissed skin, and those iridescent fuchsia eyes…
For lack of anything better, Cole decides to nickname this mystery mer Fuchsia.
Cole never tries to draw the mer’s attention, nor ever get any closer. The days when he catches even a glimpse of Fuchsia like today are rare—as the merman is a rather jumpy one, and flees at the first sign of potential trouble. But the potency of Fuchsia’s singing keeps the pencil gliding across Cole’s page anyway. Even without his so-called muse sitting directly before him, Fuchsia still manages to inspire Cole.
The thought makes a certain warmth bloom in Cole’s chest, but he crumples it into a ball and stamps it down. Alluring, mystifying, and exceedingly pretty though the mer may be, there’s no way Fuchsia would want anything to do with Cole, especially if the siren song isn’t being used to lure anyone in. Fuchsia's got his own world to live in, just as Cole has his. And…it’s probably for the best if they stay separate.
Yet...a certain amount of longing remains present in the notes. For what reasons, however, Cole can't place.
It's simply a feeling that resonates in his heart...and, if Cole could, is a tune he'd like to resonate back.
A boat honks in the distance, cutting Fuchsia's song short. He flails in a startled panic and immediately dives—well, tumbles—back in the water with a resounding splash, while Cole sighs with disappointment. But, he's still faintly amused at how skittish his little mermaid muse is. It’s endearing.
Cole lingers, waiting for the boat to pass and waiting to see if Fuchsia will return for an encore. But Fuchsia appears to have had his fill of singing for the day, and Cole catches no glint of shimmering scales beneath the waters. The shoreline settles into a silence saved only for squawking seagulls and the splashing waves against the sands.
That’s fine, though. Cole’s seen and heard plenty enough today to work with…and daydream about. As usual, this will be a sacred moment kept only between himself and the pages of his sketchbook. If anyone ever asked, his depictions are from nothing but vivid imagination alone.
…Even if mermaid sightings aren't rare near these waters, too many people would be willing to ruin a good thing with greed if word were to spread– or worse. Cole’s got more experience than he‘d like on the subject…and Fuchsia shouldn’t be turned into some kind of spectacle just for enjoying a moment in the sun.
And Cole likes to think he’s very good at keeping a seaborn secret anyway.
It’s a few days later when Cole again finds himself spending a break at the shoreline, tucked in his favorite hiding spot beneath the docks. The gentle waves crash against the outcropping of rocks he camps out on, with the perfect view of the fuchsia mermaid out in the distance. With the skies being overcast today, the sun has less room to turn Fuchsia’s tail into the beacon of beauty it normally is, but it doesn't make the potent color and shape any less striking.
Cole hums along to the tune the mer sings as he drags his pencil along the pages. He’s being particular today, trying to get that swoosh of Fuchsia’s tail just right. He gnaws his lip over being unable to match the glittering pink of his scales with his paints.
But even with the small imperfections, and his own personal flourishes, Cole truly thinks this current piece might be his best depiction of Fuchsia yet. Although, one of these days, he wishes he could get a good view of Fuchsia’s face instead—not that his back isn’t nice to look at or anything, but—
A loud fog horn rings out, not dissimilar from the one in the days prior. Except, this time it sounds closer.
Cole blinks, broken from his creative haze. He glances up—just beyond Fuchsia’s rock, fog gathers on the horizon. Another blaring from the horn startles the mer back into the water. Cole clicks his tongue in disappointment, getting the feeling he’s lost his muse for the day. Again.
But…he at least wants to see Fuchsia swim off.
Yet, Fuchsia never resurfaces, nor does Cole see the telltale ripple of the water of his departure.
Even if there was a sign, it’d be eclipsed by the aforementioned ship piercing its way out of the forming fog, disturbing the once mirror-clear waters surrounding it. It’s not a terribly large ship, made of old-fashioned wood with little personal flair nor embellishments to it. It’s basic and unassuming enough to not draw attention. And surely, it has no business here other than passing by.
Cole expects it to keep drifting past the bay. As it should.
It stops instead.
…It’s not an uncommon sight around here—big rust-crusted boats drifting into the bay without proper permits and documentation. Every single one of them comes equipped with nets, cranes, and the occasional harpoon. They’ve been a problem for years…and for as long as Cole can remember.
It goes unspoken, but everyone in West Haven knows what they’re all after.
…a surge of dread rushes through Cole as he slowly lowers his sketchbook, brows knitting together. Now it’s entirely too quiet…and that’s when he spots the first signs of there being a net in the water.
The ship redirects its course, heading for the dock that Cole is currently hidden beneath. Stomach twisting, Cole takes further cover behind a pile of rocks. He tries to make his unfortunately large shoulders smaller as he peeks between the cracks.
The wooden ship, upon closer inspection, resembles more of a pirate ship than the ones regularly reported for poaching. So, that’s even worse.
Once the boat properly docks, the net is wrenched up the side, weighed down by the heavy catch. From Cole’s vantage point below, he gets the slimmest glimpse of Fuchsia’s tail bound within the rope mesh. Heart in his throat, Cole springs into action to climb up the backside of the ship, hoping to stay out of sight.
The march of boots parade across the ship’s deck, along with echoes of a struggle. There’s a small, feminine wail of pain, an aggressive bout of clicks and snarls, and the worst sound yet—a cackle devoid of any humor, and full of malice.
Cole peeks over the poop deck to observe the scene for himself. A woman in a white blouse, a denim vest, and thigh-high brown boots sashays across her ship. Her long red-orange hair cascades down her back, with only one part tamed in a single side braid that dangles against her gold hoop earrings. She emotes with a crooked grin, making her way to the catch of the day.
“To think, I almost didn't believe the prattle I heard about this place ‘round Stiix, but a whole bay bein’ a hotspot for mer activity…? It must be true, if I managed to net myself two whole mers one go! Hard to believe this place ain’t swarming with more competition! Aye, that’s okay—it means more riches for ol’ Captain Harleigh K. then…!”
Cole squints, struggling to see past Harleigh talking to herself. He can’t even see Fuchsia beyond her imposing form, let alone any other—
The shing of a cutlass cuts through the air, slicing straight through the rope keeping the net anchored to the crane. It falls with a thud, and another pained squeal rings out.
Sure enough, not one but two mermaids have fallen prey to her clutches.
One of them is of course Fuchsia, who no longer resembles the alluring figure from before. Now, his fins are raised in alarm and warming, claws drawn and ready to attack, and flashing a sinister set of sharpened teeth. He leans as protectively over the other mermaid as he can, despite the netting keeping them separate. Horrible clicks and gnashing sounds echo from his mouth, but Harleigh isn’t phased.
She yanks Fuchsia’s half of the net backwards, pulling him further from the other mer and trapping him deeper in the entanglement. But for extra measure, Harleigh takes hold of some extra rope and binds his wrists together, leaving him to loll and fruitlessly fight against his confines.
“Not so tough without the use of your hands, hmm? Now let’s peruse the goods, shall we…?”
Harleigh marches over to the other mer—the second mermaid is much smaller, evidently female, and trembling in fear. She’s missing half of her lower tail fin and lacks an arm on the same side, leaving her in a poor position to even attempt an escape.
Harleigh tsks in disappointment as she lifts the mer’s tail to inspect it for herself.
“…aww, figures the only reason I snagged two was because one of ‘em was all battered already. That’ll hardly fetch any kinda price, mermaid or not…”
She drops the mermaid’s fin, leaving the poor thing whimpering on the deck, and sets her sights back on Fuchsia.
“But you… “ Harleigh kneels down, pinching the helpless Fuchsia’s chin with her thumb and forefinger. She yanks his head up, pulling his shining eyes up close for observation. “— yer pretty enough to fetch a fair price worth five mers! The glimmer of your tail alone will fetch my weight in gold! And if it wasn’t for that beautiful little voice of yours, I might’ve never found ya…!”
A flash of shame darts across Fuchsia’s eyes. Harleigh’s grin widens at the sight of it. She gives Fuchsia a pat on the cheek before letting him go.
“So I’ll make sure to take good care of you. And as for that other one—well, she might make for a fine pet, or a personal trophy. She’ll have some worth that way, at least…!”
Fuchsia thrashes, anger and desperation boiling in his eyes as he tries to attack Harleigh and get to the other mermaid in the same maneuver. Unfortunately for him, he’s unable to move far at all, serving to tangle himself deeper into the net. Harleigh laughs at his pathetic attempt.
“You can stop fussing so much. I’m not cruel enough to make you watch me do anything to her. …You’ll just have the knowledge that I will—!”
The ship rocks with the force of Cole jumping onto it, as overbearing and striking as an earthquake. Fuchsia yelps and flops uselessly backwards while Harleigh whirls towards the disturbance, drawing her cutlass once again.
“That’s not going to happen!” Cole declares, bracing against the brandish sword with nothing but fists. Harleigh tilts her head, more confused than actually intimidated.
“Haaaaaah? And who’re you supposed to be? May ye be another pirate, infringing on my spoils—?”
“ I’m one of the conservationists in the area, and I’m here to conserve the lives of those merpeople!” Cole readies his fists, brows narrowed in determination. “I’m the farthest thing from a pirate, thanks…!”
“Tch, that still sounds like yer trying to take my well-earned treasure.” Harleigh twirls her sword around her wrist before stabbing it towards Cole. “...so yer gonna have to fight me for it! Too bad you only brought fists to a sword fight…!”
Cole sneers, not deterred by her challenge in the slightest. This may be his first time dealing with a full-fledged pirate —or at least, someone trying to be one— but it’s certainly not his first rodeo with a poacher. Or anyone else proving themselves a threat to the area.
He’s seen so much worse happen around this very beach in the past—poachers with harpoons or nets made of steel wire rather than just rope, flocking crowds ruining natural landmarks and disturbing the waters for their own amusement, piles and piles of litter left behind in the wake… all just because rumor had spread that a large society of merfolk lived within West Haven’s bay. The day that ‘news’ leaked will haunt Cole forever.
Sure, the word had been good for tourism and business, but terrible for the bay itself— and the impact that it had on the merfolk living within, rumored or not, couldn't have been anything good.
Thankfully, Cole hadn't been the only one to think so—many locals around West Haven agreed, and so some came together as volunteers to make a push towards getting the place under proper protection. Yet, only under the guise of environmental preservation could any push toward real change be made, as ‘saving potential mermaids’ tended not to go well as an excuse when making a pitch for why an otherwise beautiful area shouldn’t be used as a draw for the public. But, as long as it had a secondary impact of protecting the merfolk’s home, Cole was all for doing what he could to help the cause.
And with time, their dedicated work lessened such extreme incidents, to the point that this specific beach was mostly left alone from the land side of things now –giving Cole that quiet, undisturbed refuge during his breaks– but clearly he couldn't stop every wayward boat that felt bold enough to breach the waters. Nor could he keep an eye on every beach that West Haven possessed. Nor was there stopping every ill-intentioned visitor that arrived in West Haven.
…some days, the task felt impossible. There would be no end to people swayed by temptation or the lure of greed and exploitation…
But, if nothing else…Cole could at least make sure the merfolk went unscathed in the process.
He may not know as much as he’d like about merfolk culture… but he knows enough that they deserve to live their lives in the way they were meant to. It’s the other reason why he'd been so keen to keep an eye on Fuchsia after discovering him, beyond the potential as a muse for his art…
…Cole’s never going to lose another mermaid on his watch ever again.
Harleigh drives her sword at him again, aiming for his throat. But Cole doesn't flinch as he catches her blade between both his palms. Her momentum halts instantly; Cole feels it transfer up his arms, but he holds his position with great effort. His face contorts as he bends her blade out of its predetermined shape. He doesn’t even get a single scratch on himself.
Both mermaids and Harleigh gawk at his display of innate prowess, with Harleigh’s grip on her weapon going entirely slack. Cole rips the sword away from her, then uses its hilt to clonk her in the back of her head. She plunges to the ground, dropping like a tossed sack of potatoes. She’s still breathing, but otherwise she’s out cold from one blow.
Cole almost feels bad—but, that’s how most poachers around here are anyway. All talk and barely enough bite to back it up. Hopefully she’ll be like the rest and get the point to not come back.
“Haaaaah…for a pirate that can’t actually fight, she sure is annoying,” Cole grumbles, wiping the sweat from his brow. Not that she’d really made him put in a ton of effort or anything, but being in that particular situation…never gets easier for him.
With that nuisance taken care of, Cole spins back to the trapped merfolk. He draws a pocket knife to cut them free—only to be tripped on by Fuchsia’s tail. Cole drops the knife as he tumbles, thankfully injuring no one with it.
“Ow?! Hey, what gives—?!”
As Cole pushes himself to his knees, he watches as Fuchsia claws his way to the other mer, hands digging into the wooden planks as leverage, despite his bound wrists and body weight down by the net. In three awkwardly shuffled lunges, Fuchsia is back at her side.
He struggles to get the net off the female mermaid, chewing recklessly where some of the rope constricts her methods for breathing. Fuchsia becomes more desperate as Cole rises back to his feet, carefully studying the duo. Wailing, Fuchsia resorts to throwing himself over the other mer as a shield, shaking in fear with tears in his eyes. He knows there’s little he can do against someone as obviously strong as Cole, yet he refuses to leave her side regardless.
It’s a sight that breaks Cole’s heart to pieces.
He closes and slips the knife back in his pocket and puts his hands up instead. He’s familiar with how possessive a mer can get.
“…I’m not going to hurt her. I’m only here to help.” Cole assures, though he can’t be sure if Fuchsia understands him—most mermaids don’t know human languages, but some with extra human blood tend to learn the tongue. Either way, Cole’s not going to assume, but he’s not going to not try, either.
He lowers down slowly, getting eye level with the mermaid. Fuchsia remains on high alert, his tail jerking with attempted warning swings…but Cole grasps one of his hands with the softest of grips, grounding them both.
A risky move, given that Fuchsia’s claws are still out. But Fuchsia’s too surprised by the move to take advantage.
“…I’m not going to hurt you, either. But if we want to help her, and you, you have to let me see.”
Hesitantly, Fuchsia studies Cole before gazing at the other mermaid with a softened heart. He slowly slinks his body off, allowing Cole to see just how tangled she is with the net. Sure, the knife would probably cut through it easily enough, but with Fuchsia keeping one eye on Cole’s pocket, Cole doesn’t want to break the already fragile trust they’ve formed.
So he takes a slow hold on the rope, making sure Fuchsia knows what he’s doing at all times…and proceeds to rip right through the thick net.
Fuchsia gawks again at Cole’s show of raw strength while the smaller mermaid gasps for breath, now that her chest is unrestricted. Cole gathers up as much as he can of her net before heaving it over his shoulder and far away across the deck, lest they get tangled up all over again.
With her free, Cole seizes at the full sight of her—no wonder Fuchsia had already been so protective of her. Scars from incidents prior run up and down her body, with some still sore with how gingerly she brushes her hand against them. She’s…clearly been through a lot.
But, she seems to have no problem moving. She tries to drag her body across the boat with one hand, similar to what Fuchsia had done before, but she lacks the strength to fully maneuver herself like he did.
Cole approaches her from the side, kneeling down to ask,
“Is it…okay if I help you back in the water?”
The girl flips onto her back, pondering for a moment, before enthusiastically nodding. Cole smirks a bit at her eagerness, but wastes no time in hauling her into his arms. He lifts with his knees, but due to her small size and missing appendages, she’s not nearly as heavy as you’d expect from merfolk. She feels like a pillow in his hold.
But, this is no time for marveling. Cole can feel Fuchsia's suspicious pointed stare drilling holes into his back, so it’s best to get the girl to safety as possible. As he makes his way to the edge of the ship, he feels the need to clarify something.
“…you can swim, right?”
The girl nods eagerly again, though she does briefly make a face at the stupidity of his question. Cole grins sheepishly; it was a bit foolish to ask.
“Okay, get ready…!”
With one good heave, Cole hoists her up and over the edge. She wails as she topples over the other side, hitting the water with a splash. Cole instinctively jumps and cowers away from the resulting spray, but hurries back to see her swim for herself.
…only for her to breach back up, laughing heartily as she makes an arc across the sky with nothing but her body and the water. Now on full display, Cole takes in the full details of her tail—her scales alternate from back to white, with a series of fins trailing down the sides, colored in a gradient of blue and pink. Cole blinks; she sinks back beneath the water, popping her head back up again with a widespread grin.
“Thank ya, Mister!”
A horrified Fuchsia pokes his head over the wall—he barely gets his eyes over—and whisper-hisses at her.
“…Mira, you’re not supposed to talk to people you don’t know, especially when you’re—!”
“But how else am I supposed to thank him?” Mira tilts her head with a pout. “So yeah, thanks random guy! We would’ve been sardines if you hadn’t rushed to the scene all heroically like that! I’mma call you the Pirate Puncher!!!”
“Miranda,” Fuchsia groans, hanging his head in embarrassment. He yelps when Cole steps in front of him, kneeling down once again to be eye to eye. Cole swallows thickly, not used to being so close to the one he’s admired for so long.
“…so you can understand me, then,” Cole realizes, making Fuchsia flinch with guilt. “I mean…ah, you’re welcome. I wouldn’t be so heartless as to leave someone in trouble. Not when there’s something I can do about it.”
Fuchsia turns slightly pink, glancing away. Cole coughs into his arm, trying to ignore the flip his stomach does.
“N-Now then…is it okay if I cut you free?”
Still hesitantly, Fuchsia holds out his wrists, as if surrendering his entire well-being to Cole. Cole swallows again and takes out the knife. Fuchsia tenses, but Cole quickly reassures him.
“I’d just rip through this too, but I don’t want to give your wrists rope-burn. Don’t wanna mar up that smooth skin of yours, now do we?”
Fuchsia’s cheeks flush into a shade of red Cole could never hope to create with his paints, though it’s contagious enough to make heat rise in his own face.
“...I’ll be gentle, okay?”
“Uwaaah, just do it already!” The mer hisses, sounding more embarrassed than actually angry. Cole coughs again, then sets to work.
He keeps his gaze down, focused on his task, and takes care to free Fuchsia’s binds without much pain or struggle. The blade frays the rope down bit by bit, with Cole struggling to keep his hands from trembling.
“ Don’t look at the mermaid sitting in front of you, ” his thoughts echo out in his mind. “ Don’t focus on the mermaid…!”
When the rope gives out with a satisfying snap, Cole proceeds to untangle the rest of Fuchsia’s body from the net. He’s trying to go fast, to hurry Fuchsia to freedom, but he doesn’t want anything to tug either—and then there’s the issue of Cole’s fingers brushing against the mer unintentionally. He shouldn’t be feeling sparks running up his arms—is that just a mermaid thing, or is the previous adrenaline getting to him?!
If Fuchsia notices Cole’s flustering, he doesn’t make a scene of it. Once freed, he rubs some of the particularly sore spots where the net roughhoused him, but he is otherwise unmarked. Hugging himself, he shyly glances up at Cole through long lashes. Cole’s heart skips a beat.
“…thank you,” Fuchsia murmurs, one fishy hand placed over his heart. “And s-sorry, for being difficult earlier—I wasn’t initially sure of what your intentions were…”
“No offense taken. I probably would’ve done the same, if I was in your position,” Cole says, chuckling nervously afterwards. “Do you, uh…need a boost back into the water too?”
Fuchsia smirks like he’s got something smart to say to that on the tip of his tongue, but a quick up-down once over of Cole changes his mind.
“…I suppose I wouldn’t say no to some help. Or for the opportunity to be held in those strong arms of yours.”
Cole instantly sputters—he knew mermaids tended to run… flirtatious, but he hadn’t expected it now from how demure Fuchsia had been a second ago. He can barely squeak out a “H-Hey—?!” without Fuchsia tittering at him.
“Well, am I wrong ?” Fuchsia asks, smothering down another giggle behind his hand. His tail flaps repeatedly against the deck, clearly getting some joy out of Cole’s stunned reaction.
Huffing, Cole takes Fuchsia by surprise when he lifts him up in one go—the mer squeals at the sudden loss of contact with the ground, throwing his arms around Cole’s neck out of instinct. Burying his head against his shoulder, Fuchsia waits for Cole to heave him over like with Miranda…but Cole stays where he is.
A jolt of horror goes through Fuchsia—was he wrong to trust this guy even a minuscule amount?!—but his spiraling thoughts are interrupted by Cole’s chuckling.
“Sorry, just wanted to give you some extra time in my strong arms,” Cole crows with little shame, accompanied by a grin that takes up his entire face. Fuchsia’s cheeks puff out, causing his pronged ears to flare out like an angry cobra. Cole snickers to himself—that’s too adorable.
Cole heads back to the edge of the boat, ready to put Fuchsia out of his suffering. Before he can throw Fuchsia, however, the mer flings himself up and out of Cole’s hold, using an unsung strength of his own to launch himself into the air. Cole’s nothing more than a glorified diving board.
Cole’s jaw drops as Fuchsia flips not once but twice in the air, performing a perfect dive back into the water without hardly disturbing it at all.
There’s a brief moment of silence before Fuchsia comes back up again, tossing his head back and making a small arc of water fly from the tips of his hair. The setting sun’s rays catch on the droplets, creating mini evanescent rainbows in the air. To Cole, it’s like witnessing magic.
But when the trance wears off, he realizes that he should probably get off this death-trap boat. He glances back at the still immobile Harleigh, yet shakes his head as he hops back into the dock.
Back on stable footing, Cole crashes to his knees, trying to process the outrageous afternoon he’s just had—and what he’s supposed to do with the unconscious poacher-pirate and her ship docked in a known habitat for mermaid kind.
“Oh, don’t worry!” Miranda can either read his mind from the middle of the ocean, or he’s staring a little too intensely at the ship. “We’ve got this covered…!”
“We do?!” Cole calls back absurdly, just as the waters around the ship begin to stir erratically. “…Creation’s sake, what now?!”
The sea’s waves rush in and out in a rhythmic yet unnatural pattern, gradually rising higher and higher to the point that Cole fears he’s about to be swept up in a random tsunami…but the water only rises enough to get the boat dislodged from the dock. The water then pulls the boat back out to sea in one strong, swift motion. Hopefully, to send it right back wherever it came from.
“What in the world—?!” Cole squawks. Fuchsia’s giggling cuts off his outrage.
Cole snaps his head towards the mer—Fuchsia sits right at home on the beach amongst an amassing of shells revealed in the wake of the rising tide. He perches perfectly picturesque in the sand, with the sun’s alpenglow making his tail come off radiant. Even the way the light shines through his fins makes them resemble stained glass, causing little reflected sparkles against the ground below.
“That…would be my friends,” Fuchsia hums proudly, almost immune to the way his simple presence alone puts Cole into a state of awe. “We’re usually more on top of taking care of stray ships and poachers like this, but the fog threw us off our game…we couldn’t see it until it was right on top of us!”
Cole makes his way off the dock, wrapping his mind around the fact that there really are more mermaids out there. And apparently ones that can command water itself. He hopes he’s on that mer’s good side, in any case.
“…sorry you had to get involved,” Fuchsia continues, playing with one of the fins on his arms. “When we couldn’t see the boat, my sister got caught in the net, and then I tried to save her and …wound up getting caught myself.”
Fuchsia sinks with shame, while Miranda clicks at him from the water.
“Hmph. Some hero you turned out to be.”
“At least I tried. I’ll remember that next time you get snatched up by poachers…!”
As the siblings make faces at each other with no real malice, Cole walks closer to Fuchsia, as the mer doesn’t seem in a hurry to get back to the ocean. His footsteps in the sand feel heavier than ever; the earth itself seems to shift when he sets himself down next to Fuchsia. Fuchsia blinks in surprise, but doesn't move away either.
And it’s really hard for Cole to speak, when the simple sight of Fuchsia bathed in the golden light is enough to rob him of words.
“So-So, uhm…I hope this isn’t out of the blue to ask, but…” Cole bites his lip, trying not to be distracted by the ethereal beauty of the mermaid before him. There’s bigger fish to fry here—or, well, no fish, preferably. No fish need to be fried at all.
He chokes out the simple question around the nervous lump in his throat.
“…Wh-what’s your name?”
Fuchsia’s eyes widen for a fleeting moment, before his expression melts with endearment. No longer is there a trace of the near-feral creature protecting his kind, nor the tormented fear of cornered prey…
This smile is one-hundred percent his true self.
“...My name is Jesse, and that’s my younger sister, Miranda.”
“Hello!” Miranda chirps, still splashing around in the swallows. Jesse chuckles, then lifts his soaked bangs out of his eyes in order to peer at Cole through his lashes again.
“…and what’s your name?”
“…I-uhmmmmm…” …Cole’s totally blanking—why is he forgetting his own name?! Help, Help! “—Cole! It’s Cole! I’m Cole! Yup! Cole!”
“… Cole, huh?” Jesse tests the name on his tongue, smiling when he finds he likes the sound of it. Cole finds he likes the sound of it when Jesse says it. “It’s a very nice name. Strong and kind in the same breath.”
“S-Sure!” Cole stutters; he’s slipping fast…!
But before Cole can ask any more questions, or get out anything else he wants to say to Jesse now that he finally has the chance, more annoyed clicking rises from the bay beyond. Cole deduces it must be those friends Jesse mentioned earlier. He can barely tell, but he thinks there’s at least three heads bobbing around in the distant waters. Though who knows how many others are lurking in the depths.
“Heeeeeey, it’s getting late!” The voice speaking now comes off as female. “We gotta get going before dark, Jesse! Don’t make me drag you out here…!”
“I know, I know…!” Jesse hollers back, though with a bit of hesitancy. He glances over at Cole again, the tiniest smile dancing on his lips. “…I just wanted to talk to the cool guy who saved us, that’s all.”
Cole’s mouth goes dry, left floundering for a response. An intense, fiery voice also from the water robs him of the chance.
“C’moooon, you know you shouldn’t be lounging around like that with humans anyway! What if someone else sees?! What if he blabs to the wrong people about all of this?! …We should just kill him. The coast is clear.”
“...HUH?!” wails Cole, around the same time another dramatic splash erupts from the sea, this time seemingly concentrated around the owner of the fiery voice.
“Shut up, Kai!” The girl’s voice interjects again. “Is that really how you wanna treat someone who saves one of our own?! What kind of impression would that leave?!”
“Tch, it’s not like we haven’t been scorned before—”
“…I trust him,” comes a third voice, sounding younger than the previous two. If Cole looks closely, he thinks he sees two green-gold eyes skimming just over the edge of the water. The pupils are slitted like a reptile’s and just as predatory, yet Cole doesn’t feel in any danger at all. “…I don’t sense anything untrustworthy about him. But, Jesse still needs to leave his new weird boyfriend behind so we don’t get in trouble.”
“Wha-What?!” Jesse sputters with a full blush running down his neck. “W-We’re not—we just met, dammit—!”
“They’re still right though—Mom’s gonna be expecting us,” Miranda adds her two cents, punctuated by a yawn. “And my arm’s getting tired…!”
Knowing how much of a struggle it’s already going to be to get Miranda back home, Jesse relents with a soul-weary sigh. “All right, fiiiiine…”
He glances over his shoulder at Cole, covering the disappointment on his face behind his hand.
“I’m so sorry about them; they’re not normally this annoying…! O-Or, uh… intense… well, no, they're usually pretty intense. But not like this—”
“It’s fine, it’s been a rough day for all of us. I get it. Don’t let me keep you…” Cole casts his gaze out over the golden horizon. He understands, but he’s not going to pretend he’s not disappointed either. There’s a good chance he won’t be able to get this close to Jesse ever again. But, their worlds shouldn’t intermingle too closely—for both their safeties. He knows this. “…you’ve got your own things to get back to.”
“…right…”
Still, a look of determination crosses Jesse’s features. Though there’s a tremor in his words, Jesse speaks with pure resolution.
“B-But…o-one more thing before I go…?”
“Uh, y-yeah…?” Cole’s marigold eyes flicker upwards, meeting Jesse’s sparkling fuchsia ones.
He’s frozen by the sight of Jesse’s radiant smile, and doesn’t move when Jesse heaves himself close enough that their faces nearly touch. He’s so close, so close, and Cole’s heart is going to break through his ribcage with how hard it pounds—!
The mer leans forward, gently guiding his hand to Cole’s face with a featherlight touch. He tilts Cole’s head gingerly, making it easier for him to reach up and press a kiss against Cole’s opposite cheek—soft as seafoam, and just as ephemeral.
Jesse pulls back after a single second that lasts for eons, shrugging shyly as he says,
“…thanks again for saving my life.”
With that, the impatient waters snatch Jesse right off the beach—with an unflattering startled yelp from Jesse—but moments later he breaches the surface to give Cole one last farewell. His tail makes a gorgeous arc as he jumps, encircling the settling sun with it and settling all his scales ablaze in a rainbow vision of glitter and sparkles. Sinking back beneath the surface, Jesse uses his tailfin to give a final wave before officially vanishing within the depths, venturing off with his sister and his elusive -and apparently powerful- friends.
…Cole flops backwards into the sand, now in the company of himself. He gazes upwards at the navy sky above, now speckled with stars and an emerging mass of constellations. Cole hadn’t even been swimming at all, and yet he feels that cumbersome need to catch his breath for himself.
All goes quiet, only the soft crashing waves serving as white noise. But otherwise, not a trace of the afternoon's chaotic events are left behind, almost as though they’d been dreamed up…
…save for Cole’s fluttering heart, the lingering sensation of a mermaid’s kiss, and the knowledge that his life cannot possibly be considered a simple nor ironic thing ever again.