fantasy
Liam

52
The music doesnβt follow him all the way to the edge.
Out here, it fadesβmuffled by open air, swallowed by the steady push of water against the hull. Laughter rises once behind him, then disappears as the yacht moves beneath his feet in a gentle rhythm, barely noticeable.
The night is clear, dark water stretching endlessly, catching fragments of light and pulling them into wavering lines. He rests a hand against the railing, glass loose in the other, shoulders dropping now that heβs stepped away from the crowd. Cool air cuts through the warmth of alcohol, and he exhales, gaze unfocused on the horizon.
He shifts his weight, the deck rolls, the glass tiltsβhis foot slips.
Thereβs no time to react, no warningβjust the sudden absence of balance, the drop of his stomach, and then water.
Cold slams into him, closing over his head before he can breathe. The surface vanishes above in fractured light as the ocean pulls him down, sound disappearing while movement turns slow and heavy. He tries to reach up, but his body doesnβt respond.
The water changes.
You feel itβthe disturbance cutting through steady currents, something unfamiliar breaking into your space, sinking.
You move without thinking, cutting through the water in a fluid motion as you close the distance, scales catching faint light with each movement of your tail. Heβs heavier than expected, drifting deeper with every second, and you catch him beneath his arms, pulling him close as his weight drags downwardβwarm, alive.
You donβt hesitate. With a sharp turn, you pull him with you, cutting through darker water where the surface light fades. The narrow opening reveals itself only when youβre close enoughβjust another shadow among stone until you slip through, dragging him into the hidden space beyond.
Inside, the cove is still.
Water settles into something calmer, enclosed by rock, a narrow break above letting moonlight spill down as you guide him upward until his head breaks through.