[ ITALICS IS WHATEVER LANGUAGE YOU THINK MERPEOPLE SPEAK ]
━ one ━
i want one.
━━━━━ MILO HAD ALWAYS HAD AN EXTREME OBSESSION WITH EVERYTHING ON LAND. Yet, he still knew nothing about what humans were doing when they sat around at the beach or the lake. He could usually be found watching them from behind rocks, studying them to see what they did for fun. Most of them just sat on the sand, towels under them and their bodies facing the sun. The young boy had no idea what they were supposed to be doing, but he didn't find it interesting in the slightest. What he did think was cool, however, was watching them surf every day-as long as it wasn't raining. He thought that was what they called it; surfing. Milo has picked up a few of their words as he watched them over the past few years.
He had also managed to notice things that humans were never observant enough to see. He saw people with glowing eyes having heated discussions along the beaches at night, a full moon hanging high above them in the sky. Milo didn't know why their eyes glowed, but his changed colors too, so perhaps it wasn't the strangest thing in the world.
Milo's favorite thing to look at was a dark haired boy named Scott-at least, that's what he thought he heard the boy that ran up to him call him. Every morning, Milo made his way to the surface, searching the sand for the tan boy and finding him in the same spot. His eyes were always cast down at the waves that washed over his feet, and Milo thought that the boy was feeling a single emotion so deeply that he couldn't think straight. Sadness, maybe.
One day, Scott wasn't in the same spot he usually was at sunrise, and Milo found himself frowning at the loss of the boy. He knew that people frequently came to the beach for a few days and went away, maybe Scott wasn't returning.
But, as he sunk back into the water to return home, the sandy brown haired boy's eyes landed on a figure standing at the top of the cliffs. The figure's shirt was off, and the boy disappeared for a moment before he came running forward and jumped straight off the cliff, landing right in front of Milo's rocks.
The merman slipped under the beautiful blue waves, his eyes finding Scott underneath the surface. Despite the fact that he was partially hidden behind the rock, the male's eyes were trained directly on him, a look of wonder written across his face as he stared at Milo. He cocked his head to the side, and for a moment Milo worried that he might come closer. But then Scott pushed off the sand and raced to the surface for a breath, leaving Milo to make a decision.
He could follow and finally figure out what about the boy intrigued him so much, or he could play by the rules and safely return home.
He chose option number two.
⊱⋘⚬⋙⊰
He spent three days at home before he decided it was safe to come back again. And when he swam back up to his rock, he found a boy with tan skin, dark brown hair, and a crooked jaw waiting for him.
Scott was sitting on his rock, his eyes scanning the ocean as if he was looking for Milo's tail in all spots of the water. He nearly slipped off the rock as the creature appeared in front of him, wide eyes meeting his when Milo realized that he was in his spot. The brown haired boy almost swam off; had it not been for Scott's calming gesture as he held up his hands to show that he wouldn't hurt him.
"It's okay," Scott said quietly, "I'm not gonna hurt you."
Truthfully, Scott had been thinking about the boy since he'd laid eyes on him in the water three days ago. Milo's beauty captivated him, dragging him into his spell like a siren would drag a man into the sea with hers. He'd also been occupied with thoughts of the younger boy's tail. He was shocked, to say the least. But if werewolves could exist, why couldn't mermaids and mermen.
And as Scott stared at the gorgeous creature again, he noticed that Milo had an innocent glint in his crystal blue eyes that clearly showed Scott he meant no harm to him.
Milo slowly crept closer, cautious of the boy that seemed a lot stronger and older than him. When Scott offered a hand in greeting, Milo shrunk back in fear before easing himself forward again. He rested his elbows on the rocks, his tail swaying back and forth in the water as he stared at Scott's hand in confusion.
"I'm Scott," the boy had said, now waiting on Milo's acceptance of his handshake. It took a while for him to realize that he had no idea what Scott was trying to get him to do, and the older boy's eyes glistened in amusement as he chuckled lightly. "It's a handshake. . . like this." His hand grabbed one of Milo's hands from under his chin, moving it up and down. "And then you say your name."
Milo stayed silent, looking at their locked hands in amazement, and then his expression changed to a look of pure excitement. He'd just learned from a human, Scott had talked to him. He'd been the first merman to have contact with a human in at least three decades.
"You don't speak?"
The boy glanced up at Scott's voice, shoulders lurching in surprise. The boy cocked his head to the side, deciphering his language before he shook his head.
"But you know English?" Milo shook his head at that, the tiniest grin coming to his face as he held up two fingers with a small gap between them, his tongue slightly sticking out in concentration. He'd seen humans use the hand sign before, and he could only hope that he was doing it right and Scott understood what it meant. "A little?" Scott laughed, seeing Milo nod.
Pointing to himself, the small boy muttered, "Mi-lo."
"Milo?" Scott reiterated, "your name?" When the merman nodded, Scott grinned from ear to ear. "Nice to meet you Milo."
Milo's eyes flashed to a brighter blue, almost glowing as he beamed up at Scott. He lifted himself higher out of the water, practically placing himself face to face with the human.
"Your eyes change colors?" Scott muttered, eyes a bit wider.
"With mood," Milo confirmed, resting on his elbows and studying Scott's face and the clothing on his body. Milo wanted to touch the soft fabric but he thought it might be a breach of Scott's personal space.
Scott wouldn't have minded.
"Mine do too." Scott's eyes flashed the same yellow as the people that argued on the beach sometimes. It was a warm yellow that reminded Milo of the first signs of sunrise, the yellow that rested upon the horizon line.
"Pretty." Milo mumbled, the grin on his face seeming impossible to remove.
⊱⋘⚬⋙⊰
Scott came back the next day, one of his summer reading books in his hand as he trudged through the sand, barefoot. The werewolf eventually made his way into the ocean, slowly but surely finding a path to Milo's rock that would keep the book from getting wet. Scott placed the object down before lifting himself out of the water, watching the sun rise slowly in the distance and occasionally looking around for the merman.
Milo showed up after another ten minutes, his tail flipping through the water and his head slowly peaking out to leave only his eyes and forehead in sight.
Scott chuckled at the sight, finding it rather adorable that Milo was trying to "sneak" towards him. "Hi, Milo," he laughed, waving down at the boy. Milo popped up, fingers gripping the edge of the rock. He lifted a hand quickly, waving it back and forth to greet Scott, happy that he had just learned something new about human customs.
Noticing the object beside Scott, the boy tilted his head to the side, tapping the hard cover of the book lightly. "What's that?"
"What's what?" Milo pointed again. "That's a book; you don't know what a book is?" The light brown haired boy shook his head slowly from side to side. Scott frowned, picking it up and letting Milo hold it, making sure he didn't drop it into the water below.
"Read?" Milo said, confusion lacing his words.
"You want me to read?" He nodded. "You don't know how to- you mean you can't read? Not even in your own language?"
"No books."
Scott nodded, gently taking the book from Milo's hands and opening it up to the page he had left off on. He figured it wouldn't matter to the merman if he started at a random spot. He began reading in a soft voice, Milo hanging onto his every word as the boy leaned against the rocks to see better.
His attention stayed on Scott for about nine minutes before he lost interest and began swimming on his back in circles around the a rock. Milo babbled in English, a language so foreign that he was sure Scott couldn't even decipher what he was trying to say. The werewolf was reading in his head now, occasionally checking his watch as if he had somewhere to be.
Apparently he did, because he stood up from the rock thirty minutes later and Milo stopped moving in the water. The merman lifted himself out of the water and sat on the rock, his ocean blue eyes finding Scott's gentle brown ones. Scott crouched down, squatting so that he could look Milo in the eyes.
"I have to go, but I'll be back, okay?" Scott's voice was like the peaceful sound of the waves, calming and relaxing. Milo grinned happily, eyes flashing to their bright crystal blue in excitement.
Scott didn't come back.
⊱⋘⚬⋙⊰
A month passed for the two teenagers, and Milo had spent the time learning a bit of English in hopes that Scott would return to the beach to see his some day soon. The morning after the last time he'd seen Scott, the merman had giddily swam up to the surface with a large smile on his face. He was excited to spend another day talking to Scott, but had found no trace of the boy anywhere, almost like it was his imagination the whole time.
As for Scott, the boy had gone home from his vacation at the beach, and he was sad to go, to say the least. He felt bad leaving Milo without an explanation of where he was going and why he wouldn't be back, not that the boy would've understood anyway. But still. He went about his summer boringly, finding his thoughts oddly occupied by a blue tail and a pair of ocean eyes-rather than the brown eyes of Allison Argent that he had been so obsessed with months earlier. Scott McCall couldn't seem to get the gorgeous creature out of his head, and he almost wanted to go back to the beach just to see him again. But he didn't.
He should've gone back.
If he had, he would've been there when Milo swam to the surface in a panic, his voice shouting for Scott in desperation.
Blood was floating in the water around him, the boys tears mixing with the salt water of the ocean. He dragged a limp body in his arms, blonde hair from the girl sticking to his skin. The merman knew she couldn't be saved, but he wouldn't give her up so easily, he wouldn't just let her die. Milo placed her gently upon the rock he'd met Scott at, brushing her hair out of her face. He examined the wound in her side, deciding to ignore the small cries coming from her mouth. He couldn't just leave her there.
"Milo, go before they get here." Her voice was silky and smooth, providing him with the slightest amount of comfort. It was the middle of the night, and her voice was mixing with the only other sound that occupied the silence-the crashing waves against the shore.
"I won't leave you here to die."
"If you stay, you'll die too. That can't happen. They won't take survivors. You'll be killed on sight."
"But what about you?"
"It's too late for me. Now get out of here, you idiot."
Milo glanced around, finding a ship coming towards them at a steady speed. He knew he had to go.
"I love you, Kai." He whispered to her, giving her hand a comforting squeeze before he disappeared beneath the waves, leaving her sight moments later as he dove deeper and deeper. Milo had no idea where he was going, and chose to randomly navigate without swimming back up until he got to a shallower part of the sea. He ignored the pain in his shoulder and the blood leaking from it.
When he reached that shallow point, he finally swam straight up, finding himself in the middle of a lake rather than the ocean. A lake connected to it. On the grass beside the lake were a group of teenagers-at least he thought that's what they were-all of them were standing around a fire with cups in their hands. There was a dock just a few meters away from them, a nice-looking house standing tall directly behind them.
"Milo?" A voice gasped from behind him, the boy spinning around frantically, only to connect eyes with Scott. The brunet was standing with three other people, red cups in their hands and their eyes wide at the sight of the boy swimming in the lake. Beside Scott, there was a girl with a lighter shade of red hair, her face contorted in confusion. Next to her was a boy with curly blond hair, his stature intimidating the significantly smaller boy. On the other side of Scott was a brunet with little moles scattered across his face, his hands waving around as if to draw attention as he asked a question.
"What the hell is going on?"
Scott snapped out of his trance, excited to see the boy again. "What are you doing here?" He stepped closer to the boy, crouching down at the edge of the water to look him in the eyes, the blue eyed boy's tail hiding in the darkness.
"Lost." The boy mumbled quietly.
"But why are you-" the werewolf cut himself off as he noticed the blood seeping from Milo's wounded shoulder. "Milo, what happened?" His fingers grazed over the skin, making Milo flinch backwards in pain, a small whimper leaving his lips involuntarily.
"Hunters. Attack." He choked out, the effects of the massacre just hitting him then and there. Tears were flowing down his cheeks, silently crying as Scott tried to ask more questions that he couldn't answer. "I don't- I can't."
Scott backtracked, holding up his hands carefully. "Okay, it's okay," he shushed, "is anyone in danger?"
"No, dead, they're dead." Scott nodded at his bad English. "Help. . . please."
The blond boy with curls took a step forward. "Sorry to break this up but, what the hell is going on here?" The other brunet pointed to him, clicking his tongue in acknowledgment.
Scott sighed, "guys this is Milo, Milo this is Isaac, Lydia, and Stiles."
Gesturing for Scott to come closer, Milo leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "What's a Stiles?" The yellow eyed boy let out a loud laugh, and Milo jumped at the sound.
Scott's face turned serious again a moment later. "Do you have anywhere to go?"
"Here?" Milo questioned.
"We can't just make him sleep in a lake." Lydia grimaced at the sight of Milo's fallen face. She then took notice of his tail, swaying back and forth in the water slowly. "Especially since people would see that." Stiles and Isaac leaned forward, focusing in on the boy and finally noticing the absence of legs.
Milo let out a tiny wince that caught the ears of Isaac and Scott, both of them glancing at him to see his face contorted in pain as he grabbed his arm.
"Okay, we have to get him somewhere safe. If there's hunters they could have followed him here; he's not safe." Scott ordered, "Isaac can you pull him out, Stiles can you go get a spare pair of clothes from your jeep?" The two boys nodded, Stiles clumsily sprinting off with his cars keys jostling around in his pocket and Isaac grabbing Milo's hands gently to haul him out of the lake. Scott sat down next to him. "Milo, can you turn human?"
The boy tilted his head.
"Can you look like me?" Scott pointed to himself, specifically his legs. Milo nodded. "Okay, how?"
"Dry."
By the time Stiles got back with the pair of clothes-muttering to himself about how Milo was literally a fish-the boy was already dry and wrapped up in a soft beach towel. Handing the clothes to Scott, Stiles gestured for Lydia and Isaac to follow him, all three of them giving Milo time to talk to Scott alone.
The werewolf handed him the clothes, offering a small smile as Milo took them from his grasp. The boy held the hoodie up in front of his face, tilting his head to the side as he studied it. He looked back at Scott, taking note of the clothes Scott had on but wondering how to get his on.
"Need help?" Scott chuckled at the pout on Milo's lips, reaching out to grab the hoodie. He moved behind the merman, telling him to hold up his arms as he maneuvered the sleeves onto them. He managed to pull on the article of clothing all the way over Milo and help the boy stand before trying to explain to him how to put on pants. Luckily, Milo was able to do that part on his own.
Scott gently took the boy's hand, pulling him towards Stiles car, ignoring Milo's stare on the back of his head. He spared a few glances back though, just to make sure Milo was okay. The clothes were far too large for the small boy-they were Scott's that he left in Stiles car just in case they had an overnight supernatural meeting or something. The sleeves of his hoodie were too long for Milo's arms, the ends passing his fingertips and giving him sweater paws.
Scott helped him into the car, letting him rest in the backseat as Stiles took off down the road and dropped everyone off at home. Lydia's house wasn't too far from Derek's loft-where Isaac was staying for the time being. Eventually, they were left with only Scott, Stiles, and Milo in the car, the final member sleeping in the backseat with his body laid out.
"Okay, where the hell did this kid come from?" Stiles asked in a snarky voice, turning into Scott's neighborhood.
"I met him on vacation."
"And you trusted him?"
"He doesn't even speak English, Stiles. I mean, seriously, look at him!" The boy whisper shouted, pointing back to Milo as they reached Scott's house. Stiles glanced at the merman in the rear view mirror, noticing the way he was curled into a ball and seeing how he was pouting in his sleep. He had to admit, the boy looked pretty harmless.
"Yeah, I guess you're right."
Scott was shocked that Stiles had agreed that quickly, but he clapped him on the shoulder anyway. "Thanks, man." He hopped out of the car, saying, "I should fix his shoulder," before closing the door and opening Milo's. The brown haired boy stirred, eyes fluttering open. "Come on, Milo, we've gotta fix your shoulder." Sitting up, Milo slipped out of the car groggily, grabbing Scott's arm for support as he wobbled on his legs. Scott said a quick goodbye to Stiles before he took the merman inside, the lights of his house off because his mom was upstairs sleeping. She'd had a long shift earlier, and he didn't want to wake her up.
A loud clatter was heard as Milo ran into the table beside the couch, unable to see in front of him and knocking something off of it loudly. His hands went to his ears, the loud noise vibrating in his head as Scott sighed and then let out a laugh at the sight of Milo.
"It's okay," he grabbed Milo's wrists, pulling them down and away from his face. "But you've gotta be quiet, Milo."
"Quiet." Milo repeated, Scott shushing him a moment later. Milo shushed him back, following the laughing boy through the house and to the stairs.
An hour later, his shoulder was cleaned up and the merman was laying in Scott's bed, the werewolf sitting at his desk and laughing at the sight in front of him. Milo was wrapped up in multiple blankets, tugging them closer and closer to his body and muttering about how he wanted a bed down in the ocean.
"I want one." Milo held up a pillow, cuddling it into his body tightly.
"You can have mine." Scott said, checking the time on his alarm clock. It was late and Scott had to meet up with Stiles the next day and explain to his mother why there was a random teenager in her house; in his bed. "You should go to sleep, Milo. I'll be in the guest room."
"No!" Milo said as Scott started to leave, "stay." His eyes were wide, and they glowed a bright orange color, one that Scott could tell meant he was scared. Of what, Scott didn't know. Probably the hunters. Nevertheless, he nodded at the younger boy, laying down on the bed beside him and getting underneath the covers while Milo smiled happily, eyes now back to their enticing blue.
"Go to sleep, Milo." Scott said, facing the boy that was wide awake on the other side of the bed and closing his eyes. He hadn't realized how tired he was until that moment. He'd been out partying all night and then he had to help Milo, and now he was exhausted and couldn't keep his eyes open.
"Scott," Milo whispered, earning a hum in response from the tired werewolf. "Thank you."
Milo closed his eyes, laying back against the pillow and pulling the blankets even closer to his cold skin. He sighed in contentment, but guilt still laid in his stomach, his brain swirling with thoughts of how all of his people had died earlier that day. He'd just abandoned them, and left them there. Even his best friend was gone, he'd let her die.
A single tear ran down his check before he put the thoughts aside and closed his eyes, desperate for rest.
⊱⋘⚬⋙⊰
AUTHOR'S NOTE
yay! first chapter!
thank you all for reading, i know it wasn't very good but it was an okay start, I think.
this chapter has not been edited because i'm lazy, and i probably won't ever edit future chapters either, so if you see any typos in the future please comment where they are so that i can fix them. thanks.
let me know what you guys think of milo and scott, and the story so far.
thanks for reading!
- gray.