The morning sun filtered through the hotel curtains, dusting the room with gold. Jena's eyelashes fluttered against the light, and her mind slowly drifted into wakefulness. At first, she didn't notice Siren's presence — the soft warmth pressed against her side, a quiet, protective cocoon.
Her heart thumped awkwardly. Slowly, panic bubbled up. Oh no… we're… this close… a girl… a siren…
She shifted slightly, trying to create distance, but the other hand — impossibly strong yet gentle — slid around her waist. Siren stirred, her violet eyes opening, catching the sunlight like twin gems. "Good morning," she murmured, voice low, velvety, almost teasing.
Jena swallowed. "Uh… Siren… don't come too close," she whispered, cheeks heating.
Siren tilted her head, a smirk dancing on her lips. "I'm only going to cuddle," she said softly, brushing a strand of damp, chocolate-brown hair behind Jena's ear. "Nothing more… unless you want it."
Jena's mind whirled. Her pulse thudded like a drum in her chest. Cuddle? Just… cuddle? She nodded, hesitant, her fingers curling around the blanket. "O-okay…"
They stayed like that for a while — a quiet intimacy, breaths syncing, the world beyond the hotel room fading. The warmth of Siren's body was comforting yet terrifyingly alluring. Every subtle movement, every shift of weight against her side, made Jena's mind spin with questions she didn't know how to answer.
The calm didn't last. Later that morning, the hotel phone buzzed incessantly. Jena's stomach sank as she picked it up.
"Jena! How's my favorite little cousin? Oh, working hard, I see?" Calvin's mocking tone slithered through the line like poison. "I'll be arriving soon. Can't wait to see you…"
Her fingers shook as she hung up. Siren's violet eyes narrowed behind her long lashes. "That name again," she muttered, voice low, deadly.
When Calvin arrived, the tension hit like a wave. He smirked, eyes scanning the room, completely unaware of the storm brewing behind Siren's calm exterior. "Jena… didn't expect to see you here alone. Or… maybe I did," he taunted.
Siren rose slowly, her posture smooth and controlled. Each movement was fluid, graceful — almost predatory. She advanced toward him, and Calvin's smirk faltered as Siren's fist connected with precision, knocking him back as though gravity itself favored her strike.
One kick later, he stumbled to the floor, winded, bewildered. "Wh-what…?!"
Siren's violet gaze bored into him. "Do not ever approach her again. She is mine to protect."
Every strike, every move, was a dance — lethal, elegant, and precise. Calvin's protests were meaningless against the force of someone who had lived centuries in the tides, someone who had killed not out of anger but necessity.
Jena watched, frozen. Part of her shivered at the display of raw power, part of her heart thrummed in a strange exhilaration. She had never seen anyone fight like that — so untouchable, yet here to protect her.
After Calvin stumbled out, Siren returned to the bed where Jena had been waiting. She noticed a flicker of worry cross Jena's face and softened, sliding back into the warmth beside her.
"Jena…" she whispered, voice almost hesitant. "There's something I need to tell you."
Jena blinked, startled. "What?"
Siren's hand brushed her cheek lightly. "I… I learned that you're related to him. Cousins." The confession hung in the air. It wasn't heavy, but it was a crack in Siren's usually unshakable demeanor.
Jena's jaw dropped. "Y-you… knew?"
Siren shook her head slightly. "I… didn't, until today. It changes nothing. You are still you, and I…" Her hand tightened slightly around Jena's. "…I care."
The moment passed, subtle but deep, a quiet thread pulling them closer together.
That evening, Jena noticed a small change — a strand of Siren's hair had turned white, a hint of vulnerability in the otherwise flawless creature.
"Your hair…" Jena whispered, touching it tentatively.
Siren shook her head, hiding it with her hand. "It's normal among sirens," she said lightly, but there was a tremor in her voice, a hesitation that betrayed the secret strain of centuries of magic and life under the sea.
Jena's chest ached — not with fear, but with the desire to understand, to protect, to be there. She leaned closer, brushing her lips against Siren's hand, feeling the warmth and tension at once.
Siren's eyes softened. "You… may not understand everything about me. But I trust you. And… I love you."
The words were simple but heavy with unspoken centuries, with the depth of waves and tides, of a being who had loved, lost, and finally chosen to tether herself to one human.
Jena swallowed, overwhelmed, her pulse erratic, her body both tense and eager. "I… I'm… I'm trying, Siren."
Siren just smiled faintly, her violet eyes glowing softly. "Then that is enough. We have time. One tide at a time."
And for the first time, Jena allowed herself to relax completely, to sink into the calm storm that was Siren.