Water underneath the horizon peak overlapped against each other, creating careless waves that gradually rose, gently crashing against the wooden boat and damping the light colour to a rougher, darker one. To remind it of its presence always there. Nearby—even if escaped from back to the comfort of the dry land—it lurks by the shore, desperately reaching its limit over the small pebbles despite its growing frustration throughout the long nights.
The sea is there; its haunting liquid invading everybodys' space: sticking to bodies stuck in the endless void of dark blue, and streaming down and being a soothing rhythm to the inner dehydration.
Inner and outer.
From Giselle's shallow perspective, the water is a tormenting doppelgänger of Ningning. A siren, watching, or to a maximum extent, admiring. Yearning for more than a scowl in disgust of her difference, or glares from a safe distance, for acceptance, maybe even a little more. Something, something unfamiliar, such as warmth. Physically or through words, to expand a heat in her heart to her chest, that it wasn't from just her pondering of the woman. Hopeless anticipation was driving her to insanity.
Her moist, doe eyes, doting on the exhausted fisherwoman from afar, within her reach yet never extended her wet claws to her soft, glimmering skin underneath the pale light of the intimidating moon to graze against. To pull her against her cold embrace. Daring to do something, to act upon her uncontrollable desire mixed with a dangerous siren instinct, she parted her lips and sang a beautiful, eerie tune to draw Giselle closer. Dragging slowly the unintelligible words, an unknown language seeming so familiar but unable to grasp onto, Ningning let it wash over the woman. Likely, it would work, like on any oblivious human.
Vulnerable to her melody, the melody is unfortunate enough to be the cure for her misery. Like water to dehydration, the fisherwoman slowly faced the direction where nothing was like before the song played, or not even a song, she assumed, the raw voice was coming from.
Breathlessly, Ningning's melifluous voice flew within the surprisingly chilly breeze in the warm evening, the meaning unclear but the resemblance of her numb heart opening to a forbidden feeling, an inevitable love. A contrast to Giselle's inner conflicting emotions rumbling in her mind, knotting her insides painfully, actively avoiding her inevitable death. She knew very well what sirens were like, she could not fall for it. The basic rule of all, don't be trapped in a lust-driven haze mirroring her actions in life.
Impatiently, frustration started to reflect the waves, now violently rocking the boat back and forth, a result of daring to ignore the siren.
Her guard was down since startled, perfect to snatch away from the rest and bring her into the depths of the enigma, to possess. Ningning's unnaturally sharp nails scratched insistently against the cheap wood, easily creating long and lasting thin marks drawn down to the bottom of the barely floating boat. Irritated, her head cast above the waters, soft pants escaping her as her sharp and glowing gaze met the frightened woman's.
"Come... come on, baby," she cooed, sugary sweet, the type that, if consumed, will make one sick to the state of nausea. A deceptive lie played right in front of Giselle's face, since from her facial expression alone, the woman could tell that she wasn't feeling so kind right now. She was rather hungry, starving—not what she thought, though, but for her affection.
The prey point-blank refused to give in, the mere, filler glance leaving her feeling empty. Craving more of their interactions, a treacherous salvation, only to be fulfilled by the poor fisherwoman, captivated her with one determination. Get her to adore her, to be the same as her with her.
"Leave me." Giselle finally uttered, her voice forced out of her dry throat, in irony as she was surrounded by water. She wanted nothing more than to leave, even if she had a few fish resting in her net.
Confusion etched on her face, her hypnotizing eyes stopped focusing on everything else and glued on Giselle, narrowing in as she assessed her. Giving up something or someone was a foreign concept to sirens—humans should know this as well—this is common knowledge. "Leave?" She whispered, instead of lashing out impulsively, she did something unexpected.
"Leave? How shall I, when a beautiful woman is right here, within my grasp?" A sickening cackle echoed throughout the sea in amusement, Ningning threw her head back, not able to seriously process this humorous statement. Taken as a joke to calm herself down, to cope with the painful rejection. As if.
When the woman turned her back towards her, visibly about to leave, the siren had to stop her. Greedy for more.
"If you cannot attain my hunger, pretty human, at least have the decency not to starve poor me of your affection." Softly, her words stilled Giselle unknowingly, her sly smile faltering from the laughter earlier. But it wasn't a plea, rather a threat since she was capable of doing anything to keep her there where she wanted. A warning, hiding the sheer panic bubbling underneath the surface from the fact that it could be her first and last chance to be this close to the woman ever again. To see the details so up close, the light shade of silver spread underneath the lower eyelids, a sign of exhaustion and the soft pants eluding from her pale lips. The complex flaws mixed made her face perfect to the siren, no matter what others could comment on.
So, so beautiful. Ravenouse, her uncontrollably shaking claws reached up, grasping onto the edges of the boat for support despite startling the woman as she inched nearer to meet her shiny eyes in sheer fear. "Don't be so scared, my love..." wanting to comfort Giselle, she attempted to caress her skin desperately to complete her desire to do so, but was met with her recoiling back in horror. Ruthlessly reminded that she was still a monster, she slowly backed off, her eyes dimming in their brightness at the realisation.
Still a monster.
Ningning's throat constricted, a pathetic cry choked out at the dawning apprehension of what she is. A monster, a lonely monster. Her heart, once charged in overwhelming warmth, became an abyss. Engulfed in anguish and despair, she covered her face in shame, now dripping in unrestrained tears. "R-really? Am I just a monster to you?" The question, demanding an answer to reassure where devastating or encourage, her eyes, through the small gaps of her joint fingers, looked at Giselle, who was confused at the bizarre sight of a crying siren. A heartbroken monster in her eyes.
"Am I?" She hoarsened out, her voice rough with unfamiliar emotions that she could not recognise as a supposed numb monster.
Guilt interrupted the woman's assumed heinous thoughts for the siren, to berate her, to degrade her... all evaporated into the misty air. Harsh opinions from the elders, more experienced people with the sea, about these creatures are now meaningless to Giselle. Care about protection, the safety locking her heart to nowhere, now broken and powerless to this particular siren: it is as if she's subconsciously drawn closer regardless of the countless warnings about these sea predators.
"Maybe not." That hadn't made things any better, rather worse, leaving Ningning in a spiraling anxiety.
"What?" She whispered, hiccuping slightly.
When about to sputter more protests, the fisherwoman leaned closer, her lips hovering right above hers.
"Maybe you're not just a monster, maybe more," Giselle murmured, acting upon her intrusive and restricted thoughts meant to stay internally.
No longer, the siren cared to stay by the unspoken rules and heavy expectations; she filled the gap of their distance, enveloping her lips with a wet, passionate kiss, speaking rather than their useless, vague words meant to imply more than say. Her claw carefully entangled itself in the woman's soft strands, cradling her close as her eyes were closed in bliss.
"Maybe I'm not just a monster." Her drenched forehead, plastered against Giselle's, whose judgmental gaze finally softened for her.