I Miss My Wife.

My wife, my best friend,

But never my lover.

My perfect other half,

I miss her.

She was my rock,

Always there for me.

When I felt the world was against me,

I miss my wife.

She crossed oceans,

Travelled on crowded planes.

We don’t talk anymore,

I miss her.

If I dug directly down,

Swam a little way.

I could knock down her door,

I miss my wife.

She’s twelve hours behind,

She rises as I fall.

I fall as she rises,

I miss her.

If I could catch her online,

If my memories would stop pounding.

If I could see her once more,

I miss my wife.

Yellow. 5 Drabbles.

whoarei:

she guessed my favorite color first try..

but between me and u……. i didnt even have a favorite color until she yelled out yellow!! she was hella excited n smiling like a little kid. so i told her she was right and i havent seen yellow the same since, its in everything. i could probably live in it now. 

So I saw this ^^ post on my Tumblr dashboard recently, and it inspired me to write 5 short drabbles. Using some of my favourite characters and couples.
So first and foremost, for legal reasons: DISCLAIMER! I don’t own Marvel's Avengers, Supernatural nor Ouran High Host Club. all recognisable characters the property of these companies, and are not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.  I do! However, claim to own Violetta and Iris. Not that they do what I tell them, but it's worth a shot. 'You' are hopefully owned by yourself, if not, that is slavery, and illegal in most places. (So I don't own 'you' either).
So, with the boring stuff out of the way! Lets have some fun!

Clint X OC - Iris, Heimdalls daughter.

Clint never really would have been able to name his favourite colour before her. Everyone just assumed it was purple. It was the colour he had worn in the circus. Phil and Iris had deemed it fitting that his Shield gear should resemble his circus days. A throwback to days he wished he forget.

Before her he might have claimed it to be the red of the blood that stained his arrows, dripped from his victims with each completed mission. The red that marked a successful kill, a pay day, another meal. The Red that dripped from his fingers as he tried to prevent his blood from escaping wounds. Another narrow escape, another day alive.

He might have suggested that it was black, like the darkness he called his friend. Black like the suits he wore to infiltrate buildings. Black like his precious weapon, lovingly cared for. Black like the way he felt inside, dead like those whose assassinations he committed.

Now, Clint knew his favourite colour. Gold, like the vibrant colour of her eyes. Staring up at him, with so much love he was surprised no one had figured out about their relationship sooner. Like the honey-brown curls that spread out over his chest and tangled between his fingers. Gold like the expensive ring that sparkled on her finger, announcing to the world that she had vowed to be his forever. The shade of Gold he would forever associate with her, with Hope, with new starts, with freedom. That gold had saved him, and he would bask in it forever.

Supernatural: Dean x Reader

Dean never thought about what colour was his favourite. It was always changing.

When he was younger he would have claimed it to be red. Like the fire trucks he longed to work in. Red he dreamed of holding and wearing as he battled scorching flames. Save people like he couldn’t do with his mother. Soon enough red became the colour of blood. The horrible substance that that oozed from his body with the reminder that he was only human.

He told Sam it was green. When his baby brother asked. Green for their mother’s eyes, and the flecks that ran through Sammy’s. He’d tell Sammy it was Green like the army men that they’d accidentally jammed into the ash tray. The constant shade visible from the Impala’s windows. Flying by with each new town. For a while Sammy agreed. Green was the colour of Dean’s eyes, and it was stunning.

The black of the impala was Sam’s real guess. The metallic shade it always returned to. The first place Dean had ever considered home. His pride and joy. Sam didn’t know that for Dean black signified guilt. The backdrop to the nightmares that haunted him every time his eyelids flickered shut. Black hid the monsters, slinking into the night.

No, Dean’s favourite colour had changed when you walked through that door. A yellow sundress wrapped around your frame. Blonde hair flickered over your shoulder as you ordered a vodka and lemonade. You had brought a gentle warmth to his life. Your brightness fought off the horrors of his life, and he never wanted you to leave.

Supernatural: Sam X Reader

Yellow had always haunted Sam. It was the colour of the fire that had claimed the life of every woman he’d ever loved. It was the colour of the eyes that had tainted him forever. The Demon that had tortured Dean and passed on his knowledge of the twisted art. Yellow was the colour of Jess and Mary’s hair. It was the tacky colour stained on motel walls.

It grew on him when your daughter stumbled towards him. A yellow daffodil clutched in her chubby little fingers. Her brown hair fading into a honey-brown as the years passed. He smiled when your little miracle repainted the house in broad brush strokes of her favourite colour. Yellow had grown on Sam Winchester, and he’d drown in it forever if it made his Princess happy.

Avengers: Pepper X Tony

Pepper never expected that gold would grow on her like it had. She never expected to feel the butterflies she did when that infernal red and gold suited landed. Bringing her lover home safe.

Pepper never saw it coming. Her genius billionaire playboy philanthropist down on one knee. A red box gripped in his sweaty palms. A gold ring adorned with rubies and diamonds staring up at her from the white cushions. The ring glistening on her finger, catching the sun and reflecting on the walls.

Tony Stark wearing a gold band sparked rumours. Their wedding the small intimate affair that she’d always dreamed of. Bridesmaids adorned in gold that contrasted with the red of the groomsman. Avengers cheering with the dramatic kiss that sealed her in a world of gold forever, and she didn’t mind one bit.

Kyoya X OC. Violetta

Kyoya had seen Violetta in every state, and every colour he could think of. The red dress that wrapped around her lithe frame as she socialised at whatever gala they’d been dragged to this time. Matching her hair and making her violet eyes spark with gentle flames. He’s seen her in one of his black shirts. Stolen from his drawers and falling down her long legs as she stole his covers and curled into bed.

He’d smiled when she’d been dragged off to model for the Hitachiin brothers, forced to change outfits every few seconds until no one could keep up with them. He’d made sure to get a copy of every photo, kept safe from prying eyes. He’d been equally as impressed when she’d shown up in Jeans and a button up top. Hair a mess and folders in her arms. She was always beautiful to him.

It wasn’t until that fateful afternoon that he realised he’d never seen her in yellow. Tamaki had never been so scared than when he’d accidentally spilt piping hot coffee down his cousin's favourite dress. Moments before she was due to go speak with his own father and the school's board of trustees. Kyoya had never seen her so furious. Never expected her rage to get worse when they presented her with the only non-ruined clothes they had in music room three.

The poofy yellow dresses that made up the Ouran High School’s female uniform. It had taken everyone’s input to convince the stubborn heiress that the ‘hideous’ outfit was better than her coffee stained dress. Kyoya’s gentle touch on her back as she turned to him, silently pleading for any other option.

Seeing Tamaki Suoh in the yellow dress instantly made Kyoya’s year. Watching his best friend waddle around uncomfortably. His usual flamboyant self constrained to a chair as he greeted guests. Explaining his attire as a simple wardrobe malfunction as his cheeks turned the same colour as Violetta’s hair.

“You owe me.” Kyoya murmured to Violetta, as she returned in her cousin's light blue uniform. A smirk tugged at her lips as she leant towards him and looked at her cousin.

“Just promise me you took photos.”

Vlog 10.5.16 and corresponding Poem.

So last Tuesday, at the request of a very good friend I Vlogged - that is Video Blogged - my trip to Nelson for University last week. then, remembering that I needed a blog post, decided to write a very long 'journey/diary' poem. Hopefully, if I've done this correctly, the two should correlate. 

Vlog - For those that are curious. I apologize for the poor quality. I filmed on my phone, not the smartest idea in hindsight. 


Vlog: 10.5.16

Come on in, let's go for a ride. 

Up before the crack of dawn, 
Sneaking down the stairs, 
The quiet click of the door
The roar of the engine

Screaming down the motorways
Stuck behind Trucks
Country blaring on the radio
Frost Dancing on the window panes.

Reaching the airport, 
Wide awake as the sun slumbers on
Shh... the airport is silent
Transmitting functions switch off

Take off, 
The sun rising through the windows
Clouds like the wild ocean below
Country music ringing over the engines roar.

White-knuckled hands on armrests
I still don’t like flying
The view is worth it
The golden-pink tinge to the sky out my window

School work, 
Arguing with a tree,
A lyrical essay 
At 18 000 ft in the air

Watching the world below. 
A day's car ride, 
In 1.5 hours. 
Could this be a song?

Shaking metal can, 
Breeze from the east
Nudging us off course

It’ll be raining when I land, 
Cold and wet and dreary
And I have to walk. 

Surprise! The sun she shines.
Hidden beneath clouds
Filled to the brim with tears
Held back for now.

The cold air bites into my skin,
Numb fingers cold like ice
Seeking refuge in warm cafes
The heavenly scent of coffee.

Breakfast time,
The eggs are runny, 
Leaking over the bacon and bread.
Warming me from the inside out.

Back into the cold air, 
Searching for another layer
More clothes to keep me warm.
A warm shield against the cold.

My new hoodie is warm
Insides fluffy, as yet unwashed
It’s a man’s shirt, 
Swallowing my womanly figure.

It’s Unfair, 
The selection in the men's,
Outweighing the few pieces in the women's. 
The men's are comfier anyway.

Walking back to Uni, 
Taking the path less travelled.
I meet only one other on the journey
Seeking out the refuge of the library.

My normal spot has been stolen!
Filled with others who sought out the sun
The opportunity to explore
Settling in behind rows of books.

Motivation lacking
Procrastination found in abundance
It’s hard to focus,
With the world at your fingertips. 

Boredom has me on the move
The quiet too much for my restless soul
Legs aching from being still too long. 
Endless energy constrained by rules

A mountain of stairs
Stretching to the heavens
Or the third floor,
Where my classroom awaits.

It’s not long until I am joined,
Small talk as we wait.
Catching up with people we haven’t seen
It's been a week. 

Our tutor arrives,
The class is underway. 
Learning all we can
Before we are left to our own devices.

Break Time,
Coffee Time,
There is only one place to go
Starbucks.

The people are friendly,
Drawing pictures on the cup,
Making drinks to request
Competing at attempting to draw a flower.

Feels like I’m talking to myself
Getting strange looks
Directing words at a phone in the air
Dreading the editing awaiting at the end. 

Back to class, 
Killing Time, 
Eyes on the time
I can’t be late.

Sneaking out as a video plays
Class is going overtime
But I cannot stay, 
The Taxi awaits.

It’s dark as we travel,
Discussing names and books
Taxi drivers love to talk
As we battle traffic, racing to the airport.

Made it, 
Checking the departure board
Everything is running smoothly.
Now to wait, 

Airplane is boarding,
People squished together,
The plane is small, 
The turbulence is felt by all.

Shaking with the high-powered wind.
Rocked to and fro, 
Keeping my mind off it
Listening to calming music

I hate flying
I’d rather take a car, 
Travel for weeks via a boat
Than take to the skies.

White knuckles on the armrest
Tapping on a little phone screen
Have to keep occupied,
Trust people, I have never met

The city lights are blinding beneath us, 
Circling the airport to get in position, 
Landing gear clicking out beneath my feet
Going in for the landing

Arrived, Safe, Once more,
Messaging with friends
Waiting to disembark.
Thinking about acquiring food.

There is only one place 
Between the airport and the motorway
Kentucky Fried Chicken
A meal easily eaten while driving.

Still hungry, 
Mcdonald's is packed.
I am exhausted. 
Finally, my number is called.

The road beneath my tires,
Weaving in and out of slow traffic,
Mistakenly camped in the fast lane.
Ready for Bed.

Home, Safe, 
Locked out, 
Key nowhere in sight
A phone call to the only person awake.

Inside, 
In Bed,
Asleep,
Finally.

My Shadow hurts.

So one of the girls at work the other day complained that her shoulder hurt. Of course, that's not what I heard her say. I thought she said her shadow hurt... and decided that I simply had to use that for something. I mean... how could I resist?

Poem:

My Shadow Hurts:

My Shadow is afraid.

It hides from the light, using me as a shield.

It vanishes into the night,

Slinking away where no one knows.

My Shadow is weighted down.

Bearing a burden never meant to rest on it's Opaque shoulders.

It shrinks away from any sense of duty,

Chained to a flesh cage of bone.

My Shadow is Loyal

It stays by my side, no matter what I face.

It always has my back,

Supporting me through thick and thin.

My Shadow Hurts.

My Shadow is afraid.

My Shadow is Weighted Down.

My Shadow is Loyal.

And so am I.

Short Drabble:

It was abnormal, she thought, to feel the pain of one's shadow scraping along the cobbled stone walkway behind yourself. To wince with pain with each additional step; feet feeling like they were being crushed beneath a truck.

One was never supposed to feel their shadow's pain. It was supposed to be a silent companion, always there no matter what you faced. Always returning when a light shines brightly. So why could she feel hers? What had happened, that she should be forced to endure the pain of a thousand knives slicing into her back. The trample of footsteps as crowds surged past her.

She was surprised that she couldn't feel other people's emotions and pain as her shadow bent at odd angles to brush them by, a gentle feather in comparison to the burning the black tarseal footpaths offered willingly.

What God had she angered to notice such a thing? Each little action like she was trying to break bones with the sheer force of her own mind. Surely this was some sort of curse, to be stuck in the darkness forever. Where still her Shadow Hurts.

Children's Book (Planning):

Hahaa, so obviously I can't add the pictures in, and with a childs book you rely on the pictures to tell the story. So the italics is briefly what I imagined in the pictures, you could see something else, and thats perfectly alright!

Do you think your shadow feels pain?

No? Why not? If Peter Pan’s shadow can fall off and fly away why can’t your shadow hurt?

I think it is possible, but our shadow can’t talk to tell us it hurts. So it just has to hush.

Mia vs The Talking Shadow:

5) “OW!” Mia looks around her bedroom, wondering what is making all the noise.

Picture: Mia in her bedroom, her shadow beside her looking very upset and sore. Mia appears to be 4 or 5 years old.

7) “OW! OW! OW!” Mia runs to Mummy.

Picture: Mia’s Mum is watching TV and folding the washing. Mia enters through the doorway.

“Mummy Mummy! Something keeps saying ‘OW’!” Mia’s mother laughs, Picture: The dog is sniffing Mia, tail wagging as she talks to her mum.

9) “It is you Mia?” Mia shakes her head. Picture: Mia’s shadow is watching t.v. silently. Laying on it’s stomach.

“No Mummy. It’s not me. Listen!” Mia stomps around the room with her hands on her hips.

“OW! OW! OW!” Mia’s Mum is listening, the dog sitting beside her with her head tilted to the side.. Picture: Mum and Dog are on the couch, both watching Mia. Her mum is smiling, trying not to laugh. While Mia’s shadow is trying to grab at the ground, yelling.

11) “I can’t hear anything Mia.” Mum says, going back to folding the washing. “Maybe it’s coming from outside.”

“GOOD IDEA MUM!” Picture: Mia leaves the room, with the dog racing along behind her.

13) “OW IT'S HOT!” Mia frowns, her hands on her hips. Picture: Mia with her hands on her hips, the dog sitting beside her. Her shadow is trying to flinch away from the ground.

“No it’s cold.” Mia replies stubbornly, looking around for anyone other than the dog.

15) “OW!” “Is that you Rufus?” Picture: Mia is talking to her dog, petting it. Her shadow, unimpressed, is watching.

“No! It’s hot! Please move!” Mia glances around, seeing an earthworm crawling through the lawn. Picture: An earthworm mid-crawl on the far page. Mia pointing at it.

17) “Is it you Mr Worm?” Mia asked quietly, laying down on the ground. Picture: The earthworm rises up and shakes his head. Mia is lying ON TOP of her shadow. Her dog lays down beside her.

“No, not me.” The earthworm whispered back.

19) “OW! You’re heavy! OW!” Mia gets up quickly, looking beneath her. She can’t see anything there. She sits up with a sigh. Picture: Mia and her dog sit side by side. Her shadow looks very squashed, still laying on the ground. “Ow!”

“STOP IT! WHERE ARE YOU!?” Mia yells, folding her arms over her chest. Picture: Mia is very upset. Her dog licks her hand. Her shadow squirming away from Shadow Dog’s tongue.

“Down here.” Mia looks down, but she doesn’t notice her shadow.

21) “I can’t see you!” Mia stomps her foot angrily. How dare they hide from her! She wanted to know why they kept saying OW!

“I’m your shadow.” Picture: Her shadow is waving. Mia’s dog is sitting beside her, head tilted to the side.

23) “My Shadow. You can talk?” Mia sits down, looking at her shadow.

“Yes, but only you can hear me, and only because it’s a very special day...”

25) “MIA!” Mum yells, interrupting. Mia looks up to the porch where mum is. Picture: Mia’s mom has a plate of pancakes. Mia starts walking towards her, her shadow being pulled along. The dog racing ahead.

“Did you find what it was?” Mia’s mum asks,

27) “Yeah Mum! My Shadow hurts!” Mia answers, taking a pancake.

“Oh?” Picture: Mia’s Mum looks confused, feeding a Pancake to the dog. Mia’s Shadow is eating a Shadow Pancake.

29) “She said it’s a very special day! Pancake day!” Mia laughs, looking at her shadow. Mia’s mum starts laughing as well.

“That it is Mia.” Picture: Everyone looks very happy.

So yeah! Just a bit of fun for this week. I couldn't figure out how to write a news article. I had the television version planned, but not quite the aim... What else could we come up with? 

Things about Drowning.... Kinda...

Okay, so two pieces of work. (I still haven't finished the song fic... stop judging me). 

One is quiet short, that I wrote when I was feeling lonely and ignored, so it's kinda upsetting. Be warned. The second is a different Song Fic, and doesn't include much of the song itself. So right now it's more inspired by the song. If you're curious, the song is Colours by Halsey. I haven't watched the music video, so sorry if it contains inappropriate material.

One is written from first person point of view, and the other second. With a female reader in mind. I personally prefer writing in third person, but I am expanding my horizions and playing with things outside of my comfort zone.

WARNING:

These handle drowning, depression-like feelings and non-graphic mentions of torture and female abuse. Please stop reading now if any of this will cause you pain, panic attacks ETC.

1) Alone:

I feel so lonely. Like I'm surrounded by people, yet still lost in a sea of emptiness. I'm all alone, and it's killing me. I am dying inside. I scream for help, but it seems no one can hear me, and if they can, they ignore it. They have far bigger problems of their own to deal with. No, they will not see me, buried beneath the ground they trod upon.

And if I should dare to tell someone, to beg for help on my knees as a beggar does for what little coin that can be spared. Would they help? What advice could they offer?

"Chin up child." "It's just a phase." "Just go outside." "It'll all be alright soon." "It's all in your head child."

Yes! It's all in my head, why can't you see! Being alone is the worst place to be! If it was on the outside if I dared let it show, would it change a thing? No.

Because I am so alone, I am drowning in a sea of anguish and despair. I am all alone and begging for a lifeline.

Would you come drown with me?

2) Siren Song:

A soft sigh left your lips as you watched yet another ship sail past. It had been harder to hunt with the influx in female seafarers. They were not as affected as men who heard your sweet song. It merely felt like a waste of time, and with every drowned female, another Siren rose to hunt. The waters were getting too full, hunt grounds too sparse.

It was what had driven you in shore, towards land and one day fishing trips. The hunting was easier, women few and far in between, and much easier to spot and avoid. You hated dealing with newborn Sirens. The whinging and the moaning and the homesickness. It was enough to make anyone go crazy. Let alone someone like you who had been a creature of the deep so long you couldn’t remember what land looked like.

It tempted you. Lingering on the horizon. Towering towards the sky. Everyday found you drawing closer, curious. Something other than the deep blue waters you called home.

It was night when you fell for it, crawling up the sandy dunes, laughing at the soft yellow that ran between your fingertips. You could feel the droplets of water running from your hair and down your back, shirt you had stolen from a dying sailor drenched and hugging your frame. You did not care, the water was a comfort to you as you adjusted. It had been so long since you had seen need to return to your island home. You needed a while to get used to your legs once more.

You watched as the sun broke over the horizon, bathing your blue in a soft golden light. The sky changing colours as you watched. People making their way down the beach, boats at the ready as they headed out for some fishing. The Humans fascinated you, they always had. You couldn’t remember your own human years. You couldn’t even remember if you had had any.

You had watched from afar as humanity changed and matured. As they attacked each other and turned your waters red with their sweet metallic laced blood. Turning their attention to the ocean life, destroying your home and robbing it of what it had to offer. You and your girls had gotten your vengeance of course.

Now, the humans before you were scurrying from a land boat to an actual boat. Loading it up before slowly leaving the shore, people complaining as cold water lapped at their knee caps. Caressing each part of skin it touched. Boats slowly leaving the shore one by one. You had no desire to hunt tonight so you knew they’d all return alive. None of your sisters liked being this close to the shores where there were endless oceans to explore and an island of your own to call home.

One human in particular caught your eye. Running in little more than a pair of black shorts with a red stripe down one side. Your eyes followed him down the beach. He was looking around every few seconds. Some sort of red rope in his ears, attached to a band around his arm. You couldn't claim to have any idea what it was. But you were curious. This was the only man to spare you a second glance. The only one to pretend you were not just a part of the scenery. You watched him, knowing he was looking back at you every once now and again. Until the red light of dawn blurred your view and hid him from you.

You took that as your cue to return to the water, no matter what age the humans were in now. It was always questioned when a woman wore nothing but a man's shirt. You walked back into the water, dipping your steadily drying hair back so it was soaked once more. You kept walking until the water covered your head, welcoming the waters warm embrace.

~~~~~♥~~~~~♡~~~~~♥~~~~~

Against your better judgement, you went back the next day. Closer to dawn than the time before when you pulled yourself up on the shore. Paying more attention to the boats, you were getting hungry, and if you did not hunt today you would have to tomorrow. Taking one person was always preferable to taking a large group. Especially now you hunted by yourself. Your family always took down big ships, providing enough food for everyone.

You spotted your victim early on, he was planning on going alone. Yelling at those who had accompanied him. Your blood boiled as you watched him go to strike the young woman who was attempting to help. A strong arm stopped him, grabbing ahold of the fist that flew towards the flinching woman. Your eyes followed back until you saw the man from yesterday morning. Muscles rippling in the dawn’s light as he blocked the attack that came towards him with ease. Instead shoving the man back until he slammed into his own boat.

It did not take long for the man to get in his boat and disappear out to sea. Leaving the young man standing on the beach. Even you could tell that there was sympathy in his eyes as he turned to the young woman. You could not help but move closer, listening to his voice reassure the woman. It was soft and smooth, like the ocean shores that brushed against the shores. His murmuring little more than a whisper as his arms wrapped around her. She sobbed in her arms as you watched, ignoring the sun as it raised ever higher.

You felt your heart breaking, and as his hazel eyes met yours you knew what you had to do. You would not let him hurt another woman again. You nodded once, ignoring the curiosity in those hazel eyes, and returned to the ocean.

You walked in until the water reached your hips, before diving in. You could swim faster than you could ever dream of walking. The little boat was easy to find, it’s trail still stirring the water beneath the surface. Fishing lines and anchor spread around it. You decided to have some fun. A gentle tug had the boat above you sloshing from side to side with the man's efforts to reach the reel. You watched as the line returned to the boat with no resistance. Scaring away the fish as they went for one of the lines. It would be a waste if he was to catch anything today. He was not going to make it back to shore anyway.

He got bored of the game before you did, the engine starting swirling your hair around your face as the anchor was hauled upwards. You kept up with the pace of the dingy as it gunned it to another spot. You waited until he was alone to start singing, keeping your voice quiet. It was only just hearable over the engine. Enough to catch his attention if he chose to dedicate it to you. You wouldn’t allow him a quick death, it was to kind for a man who would raise his hand towards a woman.

Your song got quieter as the engine slowed, making less noise. The boat shifted atop your waters, the man searching for the female who could be singing. You stopped before he could look over the sides. It would all be over if he saw you. It was the curse of your kind. No man could resist the beauty the water portrayed you to be.

You stopped singing when the anchor dropped once more, returning to mimic sea life grabbing at bait. Holding onto the lines until they snapped, hearing the whoops of joy as the man through he’d caught something big. With one last tug, you swam to the front of the boat. The anchor chain crumbling in your white knuckled fists. The boat set adrift. You grabbed ahold of the tip of the boat, hauling yourself upwards and onto the small ship. Sitting behind the man who was trying to salvage at least one of his lines.

You let laughter bubble past your lips as he swore, kicking his fishing gear over the side of the boat in anger. He spun around, chest heaving until his eyes landed on you. They went wide, and he stumbled back, tripping over and landing on his back.

“Wh-Who a-a-are y-you?” He stumbled over his demand, pulling himself up into a sitting position. Eyes locked on you.

“Your Death.” You replied, your lips curling up in a smirk. You would make him regret ever touching a woman in anger.

~~~~~♥~~~~~♡~~~~~♥~~~~~

He was gasping for air, blood dripping down his body as you gave him the gentle shove that sent him splashing into the waters below. He immediately starting trying to swim back to the boat, hands clutching onto the sides. Lacking the strength to pull himself up. A smirk twisting your features as you dove in after him. Singing softly until his attention was locked on you. You could tell the moment he was under your spell. His grip on the boat loosening as he slipped into the waters embrace. Attention locked on you, his wounds and the pain you had inflicted forgotten. Swimming down towards you, breath held as you let yourself sink closer and closer to the ocean floor.

You faltered in your song, smirking as his head shook, realising that he was beneath the water. The wide eyed fear in his eyes as he realised it was too late. His screaming lungs filling with water before he could realise what he was doing.

You swooped in, this was a meal you would never feel guilt over.

~~~~~♥~~~~~♡~~~~~♥~~~~~

You were back the next morning. Wondering if the man had spun a siren spell on you as you walked up the beach at midnight. Settling yourself in the sand. Laying back to watch the few stars not obscured by the city’s lights.

It did not faze you when you were joined, eyes flicking to the muscular man for only a moment before returning your gaze to the sky. You could smell the blood on him, it was not human. So faint that he must have washed most the evidence off before heading for the beach. Gunpowder lingering the air around him. Metallic smoke like that of a fire wafting from his shirts.  A tiny hint of tobacco and washing soap that you guessed transferred over from where ever he was staying. It was odd, you were used to smelling sweet from hard working men, mixed with whatever smelling salts they had on hand.

“He will not be coming back.” You eventually spoke, rolling onto your side to look at the man. Unlike the last two mornings he was fully dressed.  His eyes flickered down to you, allowing you a glimpse of the stunning hazel once more. Returning his gaze to the ocean, watching the sun start to rise from it’s watery grave.

“What did you do?” He asked, his feet digging into the sand as his hands linked over his legs.

“Took care of it. No woman should be treated like that.” You replied simply, he had no need for the small details. A small smile tugging at your lips as you remembered that he would never hurt anyone again.

“I’m not saying he didn’t deserve it... but-” A sigh passed his lips as he hung his head. You sat up, reaching for his shoulder. You hand dropping before you could touch his skin.

“You are leaving.” You tilted your head to the side, watching him.

“Yeah, job’s done.” He looked at you, this time not looking away. His eyes trailing down your frame. Hesitating on your long bare legs. You knew what he was thinking, saw the lust burning in his eyes when they returned to you.

“You intrigued me though. I’ve been running along this beach all week. Then one day you show up.” He shrugged, looking back at your face before turning away again.

“Thought I should at least come say hi.” He smiled when he looked back to you, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Deep sadness radiating back at you instead.

“Hi.” You whispered, laying back down to stare up at the stars. He laughed quietly, and you looked at him as he returned his gaze to the ocean you called home. He opened his mouth to say something, before closing it again.

“Be careful, my kind will hunt your kind if there are too many disappearances in one place.” He finally spoke, standing and brushing the sand off his clothes. The small particles carried on the wind brushing against your legs. He started to walk away, before pausing. Offering you his hand.

“Unless you want to come with me?”