Merfolk Mating Rituals Are Confusing

CH 1

It's a desperate gamble, see as he could just as likely be one of the kind that liked to prey on young women.

His eyes search your face blankly, unmoving from his spot. Becoming a little embarrassed in the crowd of shoving bodies, and attempting to make yourself a little more clear, you grab his hand and tug him towards the water.

After a step or two, he suddenly surges forward so that he's instep with you. A curious glance up at his profile reveals he is looking in the exact opposite direction... Which gives you a perfect opportunity to just admire him. His face, while young-ish looking, was such a perfect mix of incredibly sharp lines, and soft, gentle features. Fitting for such a gentleman. His hand leaves yours, sliding up to lock your elbow with his. Yeah, a gentleman.

You don't notice that he hasn't quite stopped staring in that direction, nor do you notice the defensiveness in his stance.

The only thing you focus on once you break through the crowd is head towards the water, and cleaning this young man's suit as much as possible.

Turning back to him when your on the embankment, you suck in a breath, now and squeak out, "Please allow me to make up for ruining your lovely suit!"

Mercifully, the stranger only seems amused with your antics. When you peek up, you find that his pretty pink lips have peeled back from pearly white teeth in a rich laugh. Shaking his head, he purrs in a lightly accented voice, "Its quite alright, bellissima." His eyes flick back over to the mess of vendors and consumers then back to you. "I don't mind, and the suit can always be replaced."

You frown at him, adjusting your shawl around your shoulders with a frown. That suit had to be expensive. With all those pretty blue, ladybug brooches, and the dark, early Victorian, gothic look to the fabric? It probably cost more than your entire home, all the furniture, food, and knick knacks included.

Like some kind of magical genie, the pretty stranger waves a dismissive hand, smiling hypnotically again. "Listen, bella. If you're really that beat up about it, how about you make it up to me by showing me around the bazaar?" His head tilts, and you watch some of the loose, golden strands from those odd but fitting, front buns fall into his eyes. "I'm from Italy, so I don't quite know my way around yet."

Feeling yourself begin to smile giddily, the gleeful expression fades when you hazard look up towards the moon. Having no watch made things a little difficult, but you could tell that it was sometime beyond midnight.

You had to get home to wash your clothes, and you were sure he probably had somewhere to be as well. "I... I would like to sir... But I'm going to have to decline." And you wait for the rage, the huffing and sneers that always seemed to follow gentle denials like that.

You see one of his shoes - shiny, slick looking black loafers - shift a little, then his hand cuffs your chin. "Of course, dolcezza. But until then, may I at least have your name?"

You stare at him, amazed. His eyebrow raises, so you snap your jaw shut and thrust out your hand. "Right, right. Uhm, my name is..." His smile widens upon getting your name, green eyes flashing in the light as he tests it out on his own tongue.

"Cute name for such an irresistible woman." You blush brightly, shyly tucking up your shoulders and breaking eye contact in embarrassment. The stranger clasps your outstretched hand in his, and brings it to his face. You freeze in anticipation of a kiss, and blue screen instead when he brushes his nose up your forearm. His lips occasionally brush your skin as he leans forward until your knuckles land against the vein in his neck.

Then he leans back just enough to meet your eyes, and rasp, "My name is Giorno Giovanna." He grins, turning your forearm inwards, and pressing a rough kiss to the veins on your skin. "And I can't wait to see you again."

And the newly titled Giorno releases your wrist with a gentle smile, turns on his heels, and vanishes into the crowds once more.
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When you stumble onto your porch that night in a dazed blur, you realize with a sleepy blink that the burning stare of those men hadn't shown back up. In fact-

'SPLASH'

You freeze, staring at your locked door with a numbing sense of fear and panic beginning to overwhelm your hazy mind.

No one should be swimming at the docks this late. That was suicide. Yes, late night maid lures kept most of them interested in the bazaar, some merfolk would still stalk around the docks in search of an easy meal, so it was better to be safe than sorry.

Peeking over your shoulder, that crippling fear doubles when you see the sheer size of the fucking thing. Even with half of its body still in the water, the mer's head came easily to your chest, perhaps even to your chin if it would straighten up. It's face was heavily shadowed, but you could see some dangerous looking fins slowly flare up and over its shoulder as it lets out a low crooning growl.

Moving as slow as you dared, you slowly look back towards the pier. If you sprinted and hoped it was a loner, you might make it back to solid ground in time. If it was with the rest of its pod though...

Hearing another splash, you hazard a quick peek. Sitting where the massive mer had been resting on his elbows are 3 rods, and a crab trap full of live crabs. You balk. Wh-where!?!

The mer was nowhere near the mystery offering. In fact, now that you took a good look up and down the wooden docks, he was gone. Vanishing far too quietly for something of his immense size.

Not giving the full trap another look, you throw open your door, scramble inside, and decide that sleep is less stressful than a possibly murderous fish person.