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clown-friend-gt · 4 months

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Octomer Chapter Five

TW: Blood, violence, implied death

It's finally finished, and only one day late! Thank you to everyone who read this far. This chapter gets a little heavier and more action-packed towards the middle, but it gets lighter towards the end again.

This isn't the end for these characters, by the way. This story is just an introduction to them, and I'll probably still write scenes between them, when the mood strikes. If you have anything you want to see, or anything you'd like clarification on, feel free to let me know.

I hope you enjoy the last part of this story

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Spots didn’t come back to visit me the next day. Or the next. Or even the day after that. By the end of the week, I was starting to worry I’d dreamed the whole encounter.

I’d finished getting unpacked. Now all there was to do was get caught up on my work, but I kept getting distracted. I kept looking out the window, hoping I’d see him out by the cliff each time. But I had no such luck.

At night, I’d go out and sit on the edge of the cliff like I had that first night. I’d sing “La Mer” until I got sick of it. Then I sang every other song I could think of, hoping that the sound of my voice would be enough to bring him back. In the end, I only ended up making myself hoarse.

The weekend arrived and I had nothing to do. Thankfully my phone started working again the morning after Spots left, but I couldn’t stand the thought of sitting around the house all day. No, I had to get out and do something.

There was a short dock down at the beach where my grandpa used to keep his boat tied up. In addition to the house, Grandpa had also left me the boat in his will. I figured now was as good a time as any to check it out.

I left the house around noon. It was a clear but windy day, perfect for sailing. I tied my brunette hair back in a low ponytail so it wouldn’t whip into my face. Then I went down to the beach.

Grandpa’s boat sat right where it always had, along the side of that old dock. It was a little catboat, just over fifteen feet long with only one sail. Above the waterline, it was painted a bright white. The bottom of the boat was painted blue.

The first thing I did was untie the boat. The rope latching the boat to the dock had a thin layer of dust on it; clearly it had been a few years since Grandpa had been able to take it sailing.

Then, making sure I had a firm hold of the rope, I moved to the back of the boat and began pushing it out to sea. I dug my feet into the sand and pushed. It was difficult with the sand trying to slip out from under my feet, but I got the boat moving soon enough.

Now, for the hard part. I crawled onto the side of the boat, trying not to tip it too much. There was no way I could tip this thing over by myself, but if I got it rocking too hard, it’d be hard to stand.

I waited for the rocking of the boat to subside enough to try to stand. I got one foot underneath me, then the other. It was such an odd feeling to try and balance on an uneven surface, but soon enough, I got my sea legs back.

I started by checking the lines the way my grandpa had taught me. The first few times we sailed together, he drilled me on this so many times, there was no way I could ever forget. I got everything untangled and ready to go.

Then I checked the flag at the top of the mast to see which way the wind was blowing. Grandpa told me he could just feel the direction of the wind on his face, but I never got the hang of that. I was just glad he’d kept the flag. Maybe he’d done it for my sake.

Don’t cry now, you have work to do, I told myself, swallowing the emotion before it overwhelmed me.

I used the tiller to point the bow into the wind. The water lapping against the hull kept pushing it off-kilter as I worked. Surely there was a better way to do this, but it wasn’t coming to me, so I kept having to stop to readjust as I hoisted the sail.

Finally, everything was ready. I adjusted my heading, trimmed the sail, and sat down by the tiller, preparing for the trip ahead of me. But as I drifted out into open water, I remembered something my grandpa always warned me about.

“Don’t forget your lifejacket, Sabrina!” I could almost hear him chiding me.

I rolled my eyes, but he’d always insisted, “Lifejackets save lives!”

I was always a strong swimmer, so I felt confident I could keep myself afloat if worst came to worst. But as long as I was honoring his memory, I’d honor his warnings as well.

I stood carefully and went to the cabinet where the lifejackets were stored. Inside was a blue life jacket, faded and covered in dust, along with two other things. A compass and a letter.

I hesitated for a moment. What were they doing there? My grandpa had always kept his compass with him, hung around his neck by a cord. I thought he would’ve been buried with it.

And that letter…

The boat lurched suddenly, reminding me where I was. Right now, I didn’t have time to stand around wondering what was going on. I had a boat to pilot. I scooped the items out of the cabinet and shut it tight.

I fumbled back over to the tiller. The angle of the boat was off, so I tried to fix that while putting on my lifejacket at the same time. It was a bit tricky, and probably would’ve taken less time if I’d just done one, then the other.

I kept the letter trapped underneath my foot so the wind wouldn’t steal it away. My shoes were covered in sand, but I cared more about keeping the letter safe than keeping it clean at the moment. The compass slid across the deck as I struggled with the tiller and my jacket.

Finally, I got everything sorted. I was far enough out that I could reef the mainsail for a minute. That’d keep it from blowing all over the place, giving me time to check the letter.

I picked it up and brushed the sand off as best as I could. The envelope had my name on it, written in cursive. It must’ve been from grandpa.

I tore it open, desperate to find out what he had to say after all those years. The whole letter was in his messy cursive, and the wind kept threatening to tear it from my hands, so I had some trouble making it out. It read:

“Mon ange,

If you are reading this, it means I am gone. I hope we got to speak one last time before the end, but knowing the both of us, it is doubtful. You could always be very stubborn. I suppose you got that from me.

So you’ve chosen to pick up sailing again! Wonderful! Even better, you had the good sense to listen to me and wear a life jacket. Remember this always, for the sea can be a cruel mistress.

There is so much I would like to say to you. So much has gone unsaid between us over the years, old wounds gone untouched. I want you to know that I still love you no matter what, and I am proud of you.

I do not wish to speak much on the day that drove us apart. I know that you probably have not forgiven me. But as long as you understand what I was trying to teach you, I am at peace. This world is so much bigger, and so much more dangerous than you know.

But I’ve given you everything you need to navigate this new world you may find yourself in. You have a trusty vessel, one that contains some of my happiest memories. I cherish the time we spent together here, and I hope you still can as well.

You also have my compass. May it never fail you or lead you astray. But there may come a time when it does, when all of man’s tools fail you. When that time comes, I hope you’ll remember everything I’ve taught you. That is my final gift to you.

Good fortune and good weather to you, mon ange.

Bon voyage,

Grandpa"

A drop of water hit the paper. I felt tears streaming down my face. I wiped my eyes to avoid spilling any more water on the page. Then I folded the letter up and stuck it in my breast pocket for safekeeping.

I look to the palm of my hand, where Grandpa’s compass sits. It’s old, but the needle still points dutifully north. I squeeze it once, before hanging it around my neck.

I felt ready for whatever the world might throw at me.

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As it turns out, I wasn’t as ready as I thought I was. I steered the boat through the wind so that the wind switched from one side to the other, but I kept forgetting to move out of the way of the boom. It smacked me on the side of the head more than once before I realized I needed to duck out of its way.

Managing the sail was a struggle too. Whenever the wind picked up and I started travelling too quickly, I tried to reef the sail like Grandpa taught me. But each time it’s too little, too late.

By the time I realized I was way too far out, the sun was starting to lower in the sky. I checked my phone to see if I could pull up a map or dial 911, but it flashed with that same teal light as before, with weird symbols trailing across the screen.

I put my phone away and tried to check the compass. If I could just figure out which direction I was headed, I could make my way home. But the needle was spinning aimlessly, like it had no idea where I was either.

I was reminded of something my grandpa used to say. Whenever he was teaching me about the stars, or telling me of his adventures, he’d talk about places where “the tools of Man fail.”

A shiver ran down my spine as I realized how much trouble I was in.

Suddenly, the boat lurched wildly, like something had just rammed into it. I clung to the sides, praying the boat didn’t capsize. When the boat began to settle, I cautiously peered over the side to see what caused the disturbance.

Vaguely, I saw a figure below the surface. Human-like, but much bigger. Its arm reached towards my boat, apparently touching the keel below, causing the boat to tilt back and forth. I couldn’t make out any details, but I only knew of one mercreature in the area that size.

“Spots?!” I called out, hoping to get his attention so he’d stop messing with the boat.

The figure’s head shot up. Our eyes met.

It was not Spots.

I froze in place as its massive tail flapped beneath it and propelled itself upwards. Its head breached the water about fifty feet away. The wave that resulted from the humongous figure emerging from the water sent my boat skidding back, nearly tipping it over.

By the time I regain my balance, I’m caught in the shadow cast by the enormous mercreature. It loomed over me, peering down at me like I was an insect. Long black hair stuck to its face, dripping with water. Dark, shark-like eyes glare at me from underneath.

Water rolled off its huge, pale body in rivers. Scars crisscrossed across its torso. Around its navel its skin was gradient, slowly shifting to the mottled gray color of its lower half.

It reached towards the boat again. I wanted to scream. To abandon ship and swim away. But there was nothing I could do but watch as its hand got closer and closer.

It plucked me from the boat with two fingers. I kicked and flailed, but I couldn’t escape the creature’s grasp. My stomach plummeted as I rose rapidly into the air. It brought me higher and higher until I was face to face with it.

Where Spots would watch me with a playful curiosity, this thing stared at me with a sadistic malice. Its mouth split into a cruel grin, putting its conical teeth on full display. A low, rolling clicking sound echoed from its throat, reminding me of the creature from Predator.

That’s when I started screaming.

I screamed and screamed for what felt like a full minute, until my lungs were empty, and I was gasping for breath. In that moment, I was sure that it was going to eat me. That I’d finally found one of the monsters that my grandpa had warned me about all those years ago.

It made no move to bring me closer to its mouth like I thought it would. Instead it brought me to its eye, turning me this way and that so it could inspect me in detail. Then it starts shaking me like I’m some kind of toy.

I squealed and shrieked as it bounced me up and down, clinging to its fingers for dear life. That only made the thing grin wider. Then it tossed me up into the air. Distantly, I heard it cackling as I screamed my head off. As quickly as it started, the horrible experience is over and I’m sitting in the palm of its hand, dazed from the impact.

I squeezed my eyes shut and waited for it to stop tormenting me. Maybe if I stopped reacting, it’d get bored of me. Would it eat me then?

Suddenly, the creature stops messing with me. I heard a low growl coming from it, and I opened my eyes again to see what’s going on. It was no longer even looking at me, instead glaring at the water below. Its hand lowered slowly as its attention was drawn elsewhere.

Cautiously, I crawl over to the edge of its hand to see what it’s looking at. I can’t make out make out anything except for two huge golden eyes staring from the deep. The glowing eyes narrow as they meet with the eyes of the other mercreature.

Spots erupted from the water before the other mer. His teeth were bared and he growled furiously at his opponent.

“Spots!” I called out to him. If anyone could help me, it was him.

His eyes flicked down at me for only a moment. His expression didn’t change, and soon enough he was back to sizing up his opponent. The other mer stood almost a head taller than him, but he didn’t back down.

Without warning, the hand I was sitting in tipped, and I started freefalling. A scream escaped me, and Spots eyes darted back to me. His face fell and he lunged towards me, his hand outreached to catch me. But before he could, the monster tackled him back below the waves.

Hitting the water knocked the wind out of me. I reflexively gasped while my face was still submerged, and my lungs filled with water. Then I bobbed back up, hacking and sputtering, trying to cough up all the water. My lungs felt like they were burning.

My life jacket kept me afloat, but the waves churned vehemently, tossing me around. I desperately tried to regain my composure, but I was thoroughly discombobulated. I looked around wildly for something to cling to.

Grandpa’s boat sat a short distance away. It had capsized completely, but it was my only hope. I paddled towards it frantically. It took a while, but I made it eventually.

I clung to it like it was my only lifeline, which it basically was. With some difficulty, I scrambled on top, so I wasn’t relying on the strength of my arms to keep me anchored. Then, once I was secure enough, I looked over the edge.

Under the water, the two titans clashed. Their battle was what caused the waves to roil so intensely. Occasionally, they’d burst above the water as they fought, and I caught glimpses of the action.

Spots had his tentacles wrapped around almost every part of the other, whale-like mer. Around its tail, its torso, around one of its arms, and even its neck. Meanwhile, the whale had its mouth clamped around one of Spots arms, locking it in place. Spots clawed at its eyes with his free hand, his hooked claws digging into its face.

Each time they crash below the water again, another wave emanated from the disturbance, rocking the boat. I clung anxiously to the keel, praying that I wouldn’t be flung back into the ocean.

Finally, though, my luck ran out. One huge wave crashed into me and knocked me from the boat. I fell back under the waves again, flipping around violently as the current fought to try and keep me below. But thanks to my life jacket, I eventually surfaced.

This time though, I was much farther away from the boat. And before I could even think to start swimming in that direction, the two giants surfaced again. The whale’s face was beginning to turn blue from lack of oxygen, and its unbound arm flailed unpredictably. Then, all of a sudden, its thrashing hand crashed into the boat, smashing it to pieces.

I didn’t have time to mourn the loss. I was under a spell watching those two beasts at war. The whale’s jaw released Spots’ arm as it gasped for breath. Spots flipped immediately, turning to face it head on. He grasped the whale’s head and pushed him back underwater.

The whale thrashed and flailed, but Spots didn’t let up. The expression on his face is one of absolute hatred. He held fast and gritted his teeth with the effort he was exerting.

Then, finally, the whale let loose an awful scream. I’m certain that if it weren’t muffled by the water, it would’ve shattered my eardrums. But that’s not the worst part.

The worst part is just how painfully human the thing’s scream is.

Spots let go and let the spasming whale sink into the depths. I don’t know what he did to it, but there’s so much blood. He watched it descend, the expression on his face unchanged.

Then he looked up at me, and I started to shiver. Whether it was from the cold ocean or the horror from what I just saw, I didn’t know. My heart pounded in my chest as he swam towards me.

His face softened the moment our eyes met, but in that moment, I couldn’t find any comfort in it. He tilted his head at me and chirped. I swallowed down the bile that rose in my throat.

Then, all of a sudden, I was rising into the air. Slower, more gently than the other mer, Spots lifted me out of the water, his palm underneath me. At the same time, he lowered himself into the sea, until we were at eye level.

He chirped again, quieter this time. I was trembling so much I could hardly speak.

“Sp—Spots?”

He nudged me with his nose, and a whimper escaped me. He leaned away, a hurt look in his eye.

“I—I—” I sputtered, unable to find the right words.

I looked over the side of his hand. Floating in the bloody water are bits and pieces of Grandpa’s boat. Spots leaned and looked past me, watching the scene as well. Then, with his other hand, he reached out and gently pinched a piece of the detritus in between his claws.

He set it down in front of me. I crawled over to it and flipped it over. The name of the boat was written on the board.

“Mon Ange”

The dam broke. I started sobbing. I was cold and wet and scared and I had no idea where I was and I just lost one of the last things my grandpa gave to me. I was on my hands and knees, my body wracked with sobs.

I felt something gently press against my side. It was Spots’ thumb. He clicked softly at me.

Despite everything, I clung to him. He was all I had at the moment. I wrapped myself around his tree-trunk sized thumb and wept.

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Once I was all out of tears, Spots set me on his chest as he float on his back. He wasn’t headed in any direction, just letting the current carry him. His hand was laid on top of me, his thumb gently rubbing against me to keep me warm.

I stared out into space, no idea what to do. I had no idea which way home was, and it didn’t seem like Spots knew either. My phone was gone, and the compass’s needle still spun uselessly.

I could feel Spots’ heartbeat. It was slow and relaxed. His chest rose and fell with a gentle rhythm. It was like being on the world’s slowest roller coaster, or some kind of living hill.

The stars were beautiful that night. They twinkled delicately at me from above. The wind blew softly and the waves lapped at Spots’ sides gently. I might’ve even enjoyed it if I wasn’t hopelessly lost at sea.

Then it hit me. The stars. I traced them with my eyes, double, then triple-checking my observations.

I knew how to get home!

I squirmed beneath Spots’ hand. He tilted his hand up and I crawled to freedom.

“Spots!” I called. “Listen up! I know how to get home!”

He tilted his head down towards me, blinking sleepily. Then he rose slowly, and with a start I realized I was going to lose the ground I was standing on. I tried to cling to his chest but started slipping as the wet surface gradually shifted from horizontal to vertical.

Luckily, Spots had thought ahead, and kept his hand palm up beneath me as he got up. I fell down into it with a thump. Then he raised his hand in front of his face so he could see what I wanted.

I got to my feet. The surface beneath me had much more give than I anticipated, and I nearly fell over. But I’d gotten plenty of practice balancing on uneven surfaces earlier that day and managed to get used to standing in the palm of his hand pretty quickly.

“Listen!” I pointed in the direction of home. “If you take us this way, we can get back home!”

He tilted his head. I mentally kicked myself. He had no idea what I was saying.

“This way!” I kept pointing emphatically. When that didn’t work, I started making swimming motions.

“You! Swim!” I did the breaststroke with my arms.

“That! Way!” I pointed again.

He made some clicking noises. He began to lower me towards the water.

“No! No!” I shouted, shaking my head and gesturing wildly. He stopped.

“You!” I pointed at him several times for emphasis.

“Swim!” I repeated my earlier motion.

“That way!” I pointed towards home again.

He looked at me, confused, for a few seconds. Then, a little unsure, he pointed to himself, then in the direction I was pointing, flashing his lights as he did so.

“Yes! Yes!” I nodded enthusiastically, bouncing in place.

He paused, looked back at me, then nodded.

I felt myself rising again. He brought me up to the top of his head and tilted his hand, depositing me on top of his hair. I tumbled off and landed on my stomach with an “oof.”

Before I could question him, he began to sink under the water.

“Hey! What’re you—” I shouted.

He cut me off, chirping loudly. Then he started moving in the direction I’d indicated. He started slowly enough, but I still jolted forward. I clung to his hair for stability.

Then he began picking up speed. He swam faster and faster, keeping only his hair above water as he did so. My eyes watered as the wind rushed against my face. I shut my eyes tightly and waited for it to be over.

Eventually, he began to slow down again. I opened my eyes slowly as the wind died down. My stomach caught back up with me after seemingly being left behind several miles ago.

“Urghh…” I groaned, trying to keep my lunch down. I’m sure Spots wouldn’t appreciate it if I threw up in his hair.

I saw lights in the distance. Spots rose back out of the water as we approached the coast. He came to a stop several hundred feet from land and plucked me from the top of his head.

He held me in front of his face with his forefinger and thumb. He clicked questioningly, then turned me around to face the coast.

I scanned the landscape in front of me, trying to determine if I could figure out where we were. There were a few cliffs, but eventually, my eyes barely made out the shape of my grandpa’s house.

“There,” I told him, pointing as I did so. He put me back on top of his head and made his way towards the cliff.

He moved slower, like he was walking across the ocean floor instead of propelling himself through open water. I sat on top, holding onto his hair to keep my balance. The coast got closer and closer, until finally, we were there.

He pinched me gently in his fingers again and lowered me down to the cliff. He set me down on top. I turned to face him once my feet were on firm ground.

He brought his other hand in front of me. It was curled up into a fist. He unfurled it, and sitting on his palm was the board from my grandpa’s sailboat that he recovered.

“You kept it!” I exclaimed.

He smiled at the praise. Then he carefully took the piece in between two fingers and handed it to me.

We stood there in silence for a moment as I waited to see what Spots would do next. He kept looking away whenever I tried to make eye contact. Then he rubbed the back of his neck, almost as if he was feeling self-conscious.

He raised his hand and waved awkwardly before starting to sink underwater. Shocked, I set the board down and ran to stop him.

“Wait!” I called after him.

He looked up at me, halfway submerged.

“Come here!” I told him, laughing in disbelief.

He rose again, until he was back to where was before.

“Closer,” I said, indicating him forward with my hands.

He leaned in close, but still stopped short.

“Come on,” I urged, spreading my arms out for a hug.

Finally, he figured out what I was asking for, and grinned. He crashed into me, nuzzling up against me and chirping happily.

When he had settled down some, I kissed him on the bridge of his nose.

“Thank you,” I whispered. “For everything.”

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Life settled down after that. I fell into a routine. Grandpa’s house became my house, in my mind.

I ended up hanging the piece of his boat on the wall. It sucked that I didn’t have the whole boat, but this was the best I could do. Hopefully, Grandpa would be okay with that.

Sometimes I wonder what he would think of my life now. If he saw Spots and I together. Would he be angry? Scared for my life? Or could he learn to accept it, if he got to know Spots? If he came to realize that Spots was nothing like the monsters he’d seen in his time?

I guess I’ll never know.

I’m pulled from my thoughts when my laptop begins to act up. I pause the episode I was watching, not bothering to try and figure out what’s wrong. I’m used to the weird lights and esoteric symbols that plague the technology around me when he comes around.

There’s a tapping at the window. I look up to see a large finger pressed against the glass, leaving a huge fingerprint I’ll have to wipe off later. The finger retreats, and I see its owner leaning over the cliff to be able to reach the house.

Spots grins when he sees me look his way.

I set my laptop aside and went outside to see him. It’s late at night, which is when he usually comes to visit.

“There you are!” I greet him, and he chirps a greeting of his own.

It’s been a week or so since he’s been by. I’ve gotten used to the fact that he can’t visit me every day like when we were kids. He has his own life now, and I have mine.

I sit in the chair I’ve set up near the edge of the cliff. He folds his arms in front of me and lays his head on top. He stares intently, waiting for me to speak up.

I smile. “Let me tell you what I’ve been up to.”

#g/t community #g/t #g/t writing #giant/tiny #g/t story #g/t fluff #g/t angst #mermaid #merman #oc spots #oc sabrina #for the person who said the last chapter was “so sweet”#im sorry #Story-Octomer

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clown-friend-gt · 4 months

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Octomer Chapter Four

We're close to the end now! Thank you so much to everyone who's been following this story. I really appreciate it.

I've also been doing some sketches of Spots, so check out my blog if you want to see that. I've only posted one so far, but who knows!

Enjoy!

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Back in the present day, I marveled at the sight before me. Not only was Spots alive, but he now towered over me. Was this what Grandpa was so worried about all those years ago?

I approached him cautiously. From above, I could see him following me with those eyes the size of dinner plates. There was nothing menacing in his gaze, but it still sent shivers down my spine.

I tried to ignore the feeling and continued my approach, laying a hand on his arm.

“How did you survive?” I whispered. “All those years, I thought…”

My eyes stung as I began to tear up again.

He started to move, and I drew my hand back, freezing in place. I didn’t want to be afraid of him, but I couldn’t help it. Even if he was the same person I’d known, he was just so big. I wasn’t always so careful with him when he was in my situation, so who knows how he’d act now that our roles were reversed.

He removed one of his arms from where he rested it on the cliff. He brought his hand before me. I flinched and took a step back, but he stopped short of touching me. Even his hand was nearly three times my height.

He kept his hand a few feet from me and looked at me expectantly. It took me a moment to understand what he wanted. Hesitantly, I brought my hand to the center of his. I felt a shudder go through him as I made contact.

Then he started purring. The sound was halfway between that of a cat’s purr and a whale’s song. It was a loud, rumbling noise, and it startled me.

I smiled sheepishly. “I forgot you could do that.”

Slowly, he began to drop his camouflage. The natural color of his skin blossomed out from his chest and spread outwards, replacing the color of his surroundings, the rocky cliff and the starry sky. It seemed like he was dropping his guard as we spent more time together.

Then he pulled his hand away from mine. His fingers curled up, though his pointer finger remained extended. He brought it to my head and ruffled my hair. It wasn’t as gentle as I was expecting. My head jerked back and forth with the motion of his finger.

“Careful,” I complained.

He chuckled at my protest, his shoulders shaking as he did. Soon enough, I joined in.

He pulled away and laid his head on his arms again with a contented sigh, just staring at me. I sat down and tried to get comfortable, though it was hard to relax between the hard surface and the absurdity of the situation.

“There’s so much I could tell you about,” I said eventually. “So much has happened since we’ve seen each other.

“I moved out of my parents’ house. Went to college. Tried to get a degree in music, but the professor in charge of the department told me my voice wasn’t good enough.” I scowled at the memory. “Asshole.”

I looked at Spots for some kind of reaction. Clearly, there was no way he could understand what I was saying, but he seemed to be happy just to listen to me ramble. He blinked slowly and smiled at me.

I took that as an invitation to keep talking. “So I got a degree in bookkeeping instead. Moved to the city for a job. Did some singing gigs in my free time. Mostly weddings and open mics, but you know.

“Those died off after a while, though. Or maybe I just stopped looking. Life just got so hectic, and it was like I didn’t have time for me anymore.”

I sighed deeply before the next part. “Then I got the news from my dad. About Grandpa. I was still so mad at him for what he did to you, but the news still hit me like a truck."

I’d been staring off into space while I was talking, so I didn’t notice Spots leaning in closer as I spoke. I jolted in place when I looked back and his head was suddenly a few feet from me.

“Hey Spots…?” I said nervously as he inched closer.

Then he nudged me with his nose and began nuzzling me, like he was trying to comfort me. The gesture was appreciated, even if he nearly knocked me over doing it. When I regained my balance, I patted him on the nose.

“Thanks bud,” I chuckled. He gave a satisfied chuff and pulled away again, giving me some space.

“Anyways, even if we hadn’t spoken in years, it didn’t feel right for me to skip my own Grandpa’s funeral. It was…” I exhaled slowly, puffing up my cheeks as I did so. “…yeah.”

“Then I found out I’d inherited this place, and now here I am,” I finished.

I looked up at him again. I was starting to feel a little more comfortable in his presence, even if that presence was sort of overwhelming.

“I wonder what you’ve been up to?” I asked him. “If only you could tell me.”

Without really thinking about it, I reached out and rubbed him on the cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned into my touch.

“You certainly have more scars than the last time I saw you. I’m sure you have plenty of stories you could tell me about those.

“And is that—” I tried to get a look at the back of his head. “—what is in your hair?”

He gave me a questioning look and I pointed to what I was talking about. He leaned back and touched his hair, which was tied back in a bun with what looked like a fishing net.

“Did you get caught in that or did you tie that yourself?” I asked him. “If so, that’s kind of impressive.”

He tilted his head at me and gave a confused chirp. I laughed at his response.

We settled into a comfortable silence soon after that. After a while, he opened his mouth wide and squeezed his eyes shut. My eyes locked onto his needle-like teeth. I was unnerved for a moment, before I realized he was only yawning.

“Tired?” I asked, stifling a yawn myself.

I looked at my phone to check the time. Instead of lighting up with my lockscreen, it flickered with a strange teal light.

I groaned. “Please tell me I didn’t break my phone."

Spots gave me a half-curious, half-sleepy look

“Whatever,” I sighed. “I’ll check it out again in the morning.”

I stood and stretched, saying, “I better head to bed, it’s getting late.”

Spots leaned in close. I had just enough time to brace myself before he started nuzzling me again. I wrapped my arms around his face, giving him a hug and also preventing myself from falling over.

He chirped and pulled back slightly, looking at me with a fond look in his eyes. Then he gave me one last nudge and began retreating from the cliff.

“You’re leaving?” I asked him. Of course, he had no answer for me, but he did give a cheerful wave as he began to lower himself back into the water.

“Wait!” I called to him, running to the edge. He stopped and looked up at me again, half-submerged in the water.

“Will I see you again?” I shouted over the edge of the cliff.

He only smiled at me before finally dropping beneath the waves.

And then he was gone.

#g/t community #g/t #g/t writing #g/t story #giant/tiny #sfw g/t #g/t fluff #mermay #mermaid #merman #mermay 2024 #merpeople #oc spots #oc sabrina #Story-Octomer

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