Drown With Me

It's been almost five minutes since you told Sonata of your intention to stay. All she did in return was smile and say "I appreciate it". Since then, she's been unusually quiet, especially for someone as talkative as her. She clearly doesn't want to accidentally make your charmed condition worse, but it still feels unnatural.

Luckily, before it can get any more awkward, the waiter arrives with two generously-sized plates. While you only ordered the veggie burger, they didn't skimp on any part of it. Three patties stacked on top of each other, with a soft bun that almost topples over from the height. There are so many fries that you can hardly see the plate beneath it. The salad's bunched up in a corner of the plate, dripping with dressing.

And then you notice Sonata's plate.

"Uh, Sonata? Is that what I think it is?"

Her meal came with its own steak-knife, along with the usual utensils. Currently, she's carving through a hunk of what looks like...

"Raw meat?" she finishes your thought. "Kinda. It's seared on the outside, but it's almost raw on the inside. Some countries call it 'blue steak' for some dumb reason, but it's totally pink to me. It's as raw as restaurants are legally allowed to serve it."

"You've got... interesting taste."

"To you, maybe. I eat this stuff for the same reason I do the underwater apnea stuff."

"You eat raw meat because you miss having gills?"

"Nah. I miss my fangs."

"Huh." While you're thinking of how to best phrase your next question, Sonata is happily chewing on her almost-bloody meat like it's the tastiest candy.

"You know when I asked if you were a mermaid, Sonata?"

"Yup. Ya guessed it wrong."

"Here's my second guess; are you some kind of shark-woman?"

"Snrrrk! Bahahahah!" She's so tickled by the question, she has to put her carving-knife down for a moment. A few patrons glance over to see what the noise is before going back to their dinners.

"Swing and a miss?" you quip once she's calmed down enough.

She sighs and wipes away a tear of laughter. "You know what? Since I screwed up with the whole charm thing, I guess I owe you an explanation. I'm a Siren."

"A Siren? Like, the beautiful women who lured sailors to a watery grave?" You realise you've been so distracted by Sonata's plateful that you've not yet touched your veggie burger. Just for the sake of eating, you pop a peppered fry into your mouth.

"Yes and no. Half of that's just silly humans spreading hysteria." Sonata jabs another hunk of meat with her fork and examines the pink flesh. "We were beautiful, sure. But not in the way you think. We looked more like horse-fish-things... guess you'd call it a hippocampus or whatever. We ruled the seas without an issue, right at the top of the food chain. Sometimes we'd come to land to hunt more than just seafood, using our magic to hover for short periods of time. But all that's in the past."

"So you took up apnea because you were sentimental about living underwater?"

She nods. "And this food reminds me of what we used to eat back then; fresh, delicious creatures. These human teeth don't hold a candle to the chompers I used to have. Heck, a few years ago I got obsessed with tacos because the shell reminded me of crunching the bones of my enemies!" Finally, she puts the fork in her mouth and chows down on the meat, savouring the bite. "I still do like tacos, but it's not an every-day sorta thing," she adds through a mouthful.

After a moment of chewing, she swallows the meat with a subdued sense of thrill that dies away quickly. "Then again, Adagio and Aria have a point when it comes to this food and the apnea stuff. It's all for the sake of memories. Memories are nice, sure. But that's all they are."

You watch her poke the almost-raw meat around the plate for a while, then look down at your untouched, triple-stacked veggie burger. In the back of your mind, you feel the need to help her. Such an urge can't be a charm, because she's not asked you to help. All the more reason to act on it.

"You're right, Sonata," you say, removing the bun from the top of your burger. "Memories are nice. But making new memories are even better."

With that, you take the topmost veggie patty from the burger, using your knife and fork as rudimentary tongs, and offer it to her. "Ever tried a veggie burger before?"

"Didn't know you were a vegetarian," she replies. "You must be grossed out by my meal, huh?"

"I'm not a vegetarian, I just think veggie burgers are less greasy."

"That's fair, I'll take it. Wanna try the blue steak? Just to be clear, that's not an charm-order or anything..."

*******

Most people, when they discover their date's an ancient mythical threat from ages past, would run for cover. You, the absolute madman you are, decide to have a romantic dinner with her. Even after she gives you permission to leave.

The most surprising thing you learn tonight, however, is that almost-raw meat seared on the outside is strangely delicious. Its taste reminds you of campfires and clear night skies, with a taste that almost compels you to grab a spear and hunt wild bulls. Meanwhile, since Sonata was made aware of the spices in the veggie burger - cumin, paprika and turmeric specifically - she's made a mental note to put that stuff on everything from now on.

Sonata puts her fifth empty rum-and-coke glass on the table. You slam your fifth pint. The empty plates are long gone thanks to the staff, but you've had so much fun talking with her, the drinks just kept coming.

"So yeah, she doesn't look like it, but Aria's totally the nerd of the group. For realsies."

"No way."

"Yuh huh," Sonata nods as sagely as, well, Sonata. "She made notes on everything back in the day; Siren-magic, different effects on different victims, how long the magic lasts and how flexible the spells are, stuff like that."

"Wait a second," something in your booze-addled mind says that you just missed something important. "What were we talking about?"

"How Aria's a secret nerd?"

"Nah, after that."

"Something about Siren magic?"

"I think so. Wait, before that!"

"Again, Aria's a nerd? Oh, you mean how she kept notes!"

You snap your fingers to signify a correct answer. "Yeah, that! Does she still keep those notes around? Maybe they'd help cure my, uh, charm-ness. Cure me being charmed. Cure my Charm-itis."

Sonata pulls a strange face. Then you realise it's because she's thinking through the rum. "Might work, but I'm sure she wrote those back when we had Siren-Gems. The notes might be irrelevant when it comes to dealing with your version of it."

"It's gotta be worth a shot though, right?"

"Totes. I'll tell her I'm interested in helping them get their grooves back, and she'll be sure to fork those notes over! And hopefully I'll find a way to... free you, I guess?"

"Thanks," you smile as the waiter approaches the table with the bill; pricey, but not going to bankrupt you anytime soon. "I'll handle the bill."

*******

The walk back to Sonata's place is quiet, save for the surrounding crickets congregating in every bush. The summer heat persists through the cloudless night, the stars above almost bright enough to illuminate the ground between lamp-posts. Sonata mumbles to herself, still mildly drunk as she tries to rehearse the best way to get Aria to part with her notes.

Bless her. She's trying so hard to be a good person, despite who she hangs out with. Maybe if she left the other two Sirens for good, she'd be a saint in her own right... but she'd also be without the only two people who knew what it was like to hold the power she once had. She misses her gills, so she tries to nearly drown herself every time she visits a pool. She misses her fangs, so she eats excessively crunchy food and almost-raw meat to remind herself of what she was capable of. And she misses her old life, so... she hangs out with the only other two who can relate. Even if they're a bad influence on her.

Memories. It's all about memories and how she misses what life used to be like. She could make new memories, like you offered her back in the restaurant. You could provide them. You could be her new source of happiness, if only you knew a way to put it into words.

"We're here," she pipes up.

You've stopped just outside a small, white apartment complex. It's only a couple stories high, and the corners of the building has been smoothly rounded out to give it a friendlier tone. A similar design your own house, but of course far larger.

"We all live on the second floor," Sonata says. "I'm in apartment number 203."

"If you want me to join you up there for coffee, you only need to order me," you say, suddenly very aware of how drunk you are as well. Otherwise, you'd never have said that.

Lucky for you, Sonata sees the funny side of it, making no effort to hide her smile nor her blush.

"Well, I'm not going to order you," she begins slowly, as if she's trying on a flirtatious tone she hasn't used in years. "But if you were to, um, say goodnight at any point, now would be the perfect time. Again, not ordering you, because that'd be... y'know, mind control and I, er, that'd be... y'know, sucky and weird. And stuff. Because, like..."

You place a finger over Sonata's babbling lips. You can see in her eyes that she's wordlessly grateful for your intervention, before she ran out of ways to sound more awkward. Watching her fumble and dance around the topic is actually rather cute, but it's no fun letting her suffer like that.

She has all the flustered signs of someone reaching out for love, but being unable to say it straight for fear of walking on eggshells. With your recent condition, you can see why. And you know just how to fix it.

"It's okay," you lean in and whisper. Her breath is warm against your face. "You can say it if you want to."

"R-really?"

"Just this once," you assure her. "I'll let you say it. I won't mind."

Sonata's cheeks light up even more, and her voice catches. Her breathing almost turns into a pant before she gets it back under control. Finally, with a half-lidded gaze and a mischievous smirk, she gives you an order that you have no problem with at all.

"Kiss me."

Those words had barely left her mouth, and already you move in with your lips. Her own soft lips push back as her arms hook around your shoulders. Your hands find themselves holding her hips. Just as you part your lips to breathe, her tongue darts forward at the first opportunity, taking you off-guard. You welcome it regardless, playfully trying to pin her tongue down with your own, stopping only to sigh and gasp keen breaths between each kiss.

You can feel her heartbeat through her chest that presses against your own, each quickened thump reminding you of the living, breathing, beautiful creature that Sonata was, and has become.

Kiss me, she said. But she didn't say love me. What you're feeling right now is all you.