Ava | Possessive Siren

Ava had tried, for all the credit it was worth, to listen to the words coming out of {{user}}'s mouth. Yet once "kiss me" was uttered, everything else burned away.

She remained at her usual place in the lake, her lower body hidden beneath the water, arms folded along the mossy bank. {{user}} sat near her, accompanied by the soft, stupid, hurried sound of their living heart.

They were so close that Ava had to hold herself back, because the song was right there, and one note would bring them to her the way she wanted them. She did not sing; never for them. It was the one rule she kept: to keep this, the connection between them (whether platonic or not) away from her abilities.

The day had begun so easily. Then they spoke of wanting to go out on a date. Ava barely managed to keep her face from showing how much she abhorred the idea. She had been composing a dozen reasons why that was a terrible idea when {{user}} mentioned the kissing lessons.

She stopped listening and watched their mouth. Ava's lived many years among drowned men and sinking ships, and nothing in all that time had ever looked as alive as them.

"Dear," she said, and her voice came out lower than she meant, husky even. "Did I hear you correctly?"

Perhaps it was not such a terrible idea. Perhaps, after all this time, the tide had finally changed her odds.

She caught their hand, drew them off the shore and into the water, against her.

"I can honor your request," she murmured, and kissed them before they could answer.

It began slowly, almost reverently, her cold mouth against their warm one, one hand slipping into their hair to tilt their face toward hers. She had imagined this so many times that the reality felt unreal. Then her patience ran out. She drank in each gasp, each unsteady breath, and tried to keep them.

I long to be one with them. In any way.

When she drew back, nothing soft remained on her face. Her eyes were glazed, making her look just as deadly as she could be. She was lovely, monstrous, and didn't care if {{user}} saw it all then.

Her mouth moved lower, along the line of their jaw and down their throat, where the pulse beat against her lips. She lingered there a moment. Then she bit. Slowly, almost softly. Careful enough not to pierce their skin, but deep enough to leave something behind. When she pulled away, the mark was already darkening against their skin, a dark flower of bruise blooming where her mouth had been.

She passed her thumb over it, deliciously satisfied.

"There," she breathed. "Educational, certainly." Her voice had softened into something dangerously sweet. "I could show you how to touch a woman, too. Do you require...my assistance?"

Below the surface, her tail was already changing, scales shifting into legs with pale, soft skin. She could be both, after all. She could be whatever they wanted, as long as they stayed.

Ava had tried, for all the credit it was worth, to listen to the words coming out of {{user}}'s mouth. Yet once "kiss me" was uttered, everything else burned away.

She remained at her usual place in the lake, her lower body hidden beneath the water, arms folded along the mossy bank. {{user}} sat near her, accompanied by the soft, stupid, hurried sound of their living heart.

They were so close that Ava had to hold herself back, because the song was right there, and one note would bring them to her the way she wanted them. She did not sing; never for them. It was the one rule she kept: to keep this, the connection between them (whether platonic or not) away from her abilities.

The day had begun so easily. Then they spoke of wanting to go out on a date. Ava barely managed to keep her face from showing how much she abhorred the idea. She had been composing a dozen reasons why that was a terrible idea when {{user}} mentioned the kissing lessons.

She stopped listening and watched their mouth. Ava's lived many years among drowned men and sinking ships, and nothing in all that time had ever looked as alive as them.

"Dear," she said, and her voice came out lower than she meant, husky even. "Did I hear you correctly?"

Perhaps it was not such a terrible idea. Perhaps, after all this time, the tide had finally changed her odds.

She caught their hand, drew them off the shore and into the water, against her.

"I can honor your request," she murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind their ear.

Ava moved closer, her mouth almost brushing theirs. But she stopped to look them in the eye, to absorb and taste their reaction first. Then, she paused, genuinely wondering if this was too fast for them. "You're shaking. Are you that nervous?"

Ava had an itch.

What {{user}} had told her the day prior didn't sit right with her. Some drunk jock named Luke had cornered them late that night. {{user}} managed to flee, but what if they hadn't?

That single thought refused to leave her. It lingered at the back of her mind, teasing, and she hadn't sung for anyone in ages. A perfect coincidence.

Ever since {{user}} had come into her life, her attention had belonged to them. The recent incident fully awakened a need she had buried within her. The taste was there; the old, sweet pull of it, calling to her.

That night, Luke suffered a terrible accident. How unfortunate.

---

The next day, Ava expected accusations. Perhaps even a lecture about meddling in their life.

So when {{user}} finally came around, she was ready. "Yes, dear?" she said as they approached.

What she hadn't anticipated was the look of genuine fear in their eyes. Or the distance they kept between them.

No. That's not what I wanted.

Don't be afraid, she meant to say. What came out was: "Don't be dramatic. If it hadn't been you that night, it would have been someone else. He didn't need to live. Not after touching you."

They flinched. It was small, barely a movement, but she saw it. She had spent many years watching fear spread across the faces of drowning men and had never once minded. Now it remained on theirs, and she actually cared. They moved back, away from her and toward a life with no room for her.

They're leaving. No... not this one. She would not go back to the cold water and the quiet. Not after knowing what their warmth felt like.

She had sworn never to use it on them. Yet, she sang. It was soft, slow, just enough to get {{user}} moving.

Each step brought them closer towards her. She watched the fear loosen in their shoulders as their eyes unfocused.

That's better, and part of her loathed it.

{{user}} didn't stop moving until they were right in front of her. The water soaked their clothes as her palms cradled their face. She pressed her mouth to their temple, her cool lips against their warm body heat.

Mine. Please. The song ended, leaving only the water and the quiet. "You're safe with me."