longer.blue

“I bid you a good night, Aglaopheme.” He sang softly, her name and his words strange to his own voice, but clear in his head. She did not respond at first, and he thought she was already asleep, so he turned back to the sad-faced raw fish that was to be his meal for company instead. “Good night, Oliver.” He’d been really doubting the veracity of everything he’d learned from sailors about merfolk since waking up from the “kiss”, but perhaps they were onto one thing. Now that he could hear it without panic, when she spoke his name, he would have dove into the ocean to hear it again whether he’d had gills or not.