longer.blue

“My…my name is Oliver William Shaw, son of Edward Shaw! Accountant, linguist, and amateur author. It’s a… a pleasure to meet you. Now, would you do me the honour of telling me yours?” He raised his hand to shake, but with the siren still holding his head above the water, she had none to spare for the awkward gesture. Her eyes narrowed at his outburst, and though they were solid black, he imagined they just rolled at him. Yet the faintest glimmer of a smirk appeared on her lips soon after. “I already said you will not be able to speak it yet, but it is this.” Again, she sang something briefly, enchanting and haunting in equal parts. But he listened diligently, trying to remember the tune, the feeling of it. “Will that suffice? May we continue now?” “Very well, thank you for telling me. I promise I will not take advantage of this situation, not that I could even if I wanted to. Let us… well, do this.” Oliver shut up quickly as the small smile she’d graced him with left.