The Mermaid Disease

6/Holding

The merman hovered behind her as she moved closer to shore. Before she could drag herself completely out of the water, Kelsea felt a cool hand grab on to her left leg, right above where the owner of the hand had previously bitten her. The girl tried to shake him off but the combination of her exhaustion and his strength caused her effort to be in avail.

What was up with this guy and her legs? Did he have a leg fetish or something? Probably the "or something" option seeing as he planned to trade her legs for a tail and all.

The girl stared down at the man holding her. "What do you want?"

His tail fin flicked around. Kelsea would have chalked it up to a nervous tick if his gold eyes had not been directed at her so coldly. Maybe the tail flicking was an angry tick.

He demanded, "Join me for supper at sundown."

She could not tun him down due to his grip on her, but she sure did not want to accept. "We'll see, fish boy," she said. He gave a curt nod and released her.

Kelsea briskly made her way to the boat. She found the little door to the cuddy and crawled in. There was a sink to one side, but most of the room was taken up by a berth tucked in the forward end of the hull. Kelsea collapsed on to the bed and realized that her clothes were soaked. Her drenched shorts and shirt were tossed out into the sun before Kelsea fell asleep.

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The sound of something dragging woke Kelsea up. Night had fallen. She peered into the darkness and screamed once she noticed her fishy nemesis on the ground. One of her arms covered her chest despite the fact that she wore her bra and underwear. The other arm swat at the male.

"Cease that, human," the merman yelled back.

"Pervert! Get out!" Kelsea repeated this until she could not see a single gray scale anymore. When she was sure the merman had gotten off the boat (How did he get up there, anyway?) Kelsea felt around for her clothes. They were still cold and wet, but she donned them because she had nothing else.

She marched off the boat and followed the drag marks in the sand until she saw the merman at the water's edge. "You freaking pervert!"

"I am no such thing," he scoffed. "Besides, mermaids wear less." So much for clamshell bras.

Kelsea crossed her arms. "What in the world were you trying to do? How did you even get up on the boat?"

"Do I look like a weakling?" he shot back. Kelsea knew he was not weak; she had become closely acquainted with many of his muscles when he carried her away from home. "I pulled myself on to the boat to awake you for an evening meal."

"You could have yelled for me or something instead of being a creep." She kicked at the sand.

He shrugged. "Aye, I attempted to, but you made not a sound. I correctly presumed you were asleep and sought to change that."

"I honest to goodness hate you," Kelsea said. She reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose but the heat radiating off her skin was a warning of her painfully burnt skin. Her hand dropped to her side and fisted.

The finned man's eyes narrowed but his mouth stayed shut. A wise decision, Kelsea thought. She would have filled the silence with another snappy remark but her stomach spoke before she did, loudly grumbling. How embarrassing. The time to swallow a some of her pride had come.

"Um ... What did you say is for dinner?"

The merman gave her a large handful of slimy seaweed and had expected her to eat it without any complaints. Stupid. Kelsea was being forced to live on a tiny island like some kind of castaway, the least he could do was bring her crab or lobster or even fish.

Not that she had a fire to cook them with; the fishy freak wouldn't even let her make a fire. Then again, she couldn't build a fire or cook for the life of her. Oh fudge, she was going to die.

After giving him a piece of her mind, Kelsea finally gave in and ate the seaweed because she was starving. It was disgusting and she wanted a drink to rise the foul taste away.

"I hope you have a coconut tucked away," she said.

"And pray tell, why would you require a coconut?" the merman asked.

"Besides to chuck it at your thick head?" Kelsea smiled at the thought. "I need something to drink. Saltwater won't cut it and I doubt you have bottled water around here."

No coconuts were miraculously procured because the merman refused to go search for them – lazy bum, but Kelsea remembered the sink in the boat and decided that she might as well try it out.

Luckily, the sink worked fine, indicating that the boat had a tank with freshwater in it. She ignored the possibility of the water being spoiled. Kelsea had a source of water for at least a little bit longer.

She drank her fill, careful not to waste any of the precious water down the drain.

Though the thought of going back to sleep tempted her, Kelsea got off the boat and looked around for the merman in the dark. The moon's light greatly helped.

She found him lying on his stomach where the waves met the shore. He rested on damp sand exposed during low tide. The waves ran up to his waist before receding back. Kelsea could just make out his tail, the gray of a cloud threatening to rain. His arms were bent, making the fins at his elbows open all the way. The fin running down his spine rose and fell with each breath he took. His face was turned away from her, giving the girl a good view of his somewhat long, dark hair.

Kelsea walked over to the merman. "Are you awake, coconut head? I have some questions."

He rolled over and sat up, stretching a bit. (Kelsea almost wished it was day so she could better observe the movement of muscles, not that she would ever admit it.) The merman then crossed his arms said, "I expected no less. You are your father's daughter."

Kelsea raised a blonde eyebrow. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"You are both curious things, asking many questions. I will answer only a few tonight, human."

"Stop calling me 'human.' I have a name: Kelsea. Use it." She thought for a moment. "And who are you? You have a name, right?"

A faint snicker came from the merman. "I am Izmuir of nowhere and son of no one." He sounded haughty, as if his name and origin prided him. His behavior confused Kelsea, but she kept quiet about it. At least she now had a name to put to the face.

"Is-mew-er," she slowly tested. "Iz-muir. Izmuir." She liked the feel of the name, but it did not sound as natural when she said it.

The teenager could have sworn she saw him smile, as if hearing his name on her lips pleased him. "Are you going to say my name all night," he said with a teasing tone, "or do you wish to question me further? I desire sleep at some point."

"What do you plan on doing with me? Hold me hostage?"

He answered without hesitation. "Make you my companion." The answer was infuriatingly short and vague.

The blonde blurted out, "And that requires you to take me away from home and force me to become a mermaid?"

"Aye."

"But why?"

"Why?" the merman repeated, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. "May it be that one day soon you know."

She threw her arms up in exasperation. "And why is it difficult to get straight answers from you? It's like pulling teeth." To that, Izmuir gave no answer.

The merman slunk away, deeper into the water. Kelsea did not chase after him, instead opting to go to back to the boat. As she tried to sort through the new information and recent experiences, the number of questions she had increased.