Mermaid Harry part 3 (Patreon)

Hello! Mermaid harry is something I've always wanted to pursue writing but never could convince myself to just buckle down and write it (mostly because I don't think I could do it justice), however writing this makes me want to even more! I hope you guys like it :) 

part 1 

part 2 

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iii.

Y/N cannot wrap her head around this. 

She’d been conversing with a supposed mermaid for a few days, which was weird enough as is that she couldn't bring herself to mention it to anyone. Would omit that the reason she wanted to make it home after a night out was because she’s fairly sure she’s met a mystical sea creature she used to search for when she was younger (if she had even attempted to tell Niall that a mermaid she’d untangled from net was no returning to her grandparents dock to write her messages he would have asked if she was taking something). Every time she’d read a message he’d constructed of lovely colored pebbles, rocks, and glimmering, glitzy shells, all she could imagine were those wide, panicked eyes. Soft globes of an appropriate sea green staring at her like she had clawed her way from hell and told him she’d take him with her.

And then she was startled by his appearance in the water, greeting her with a croaky, unused voice and dewy droplets clinging to his face and his hair slicked down to his head from water. Y/N was so blown away and overwhelmed but she didn’t want to scare him off -- the last thing she’d want to do is make him uncomfortable, when she’s so intrigued to understand who he is, what he is, where he’s from, if there are others like him. So she carried herself measured and gentle as she could be with him as they spoke. Despite the amount of confusion billowing through her brain, she had sat herself down and kept enough of a distance that she hoped would leave him feeling safe and assured. Encouraged him to share things about his life by sharing things about hers, scooted nearer to him when she realized he was becoming more comfortable (and silently praying to the universe that he wasn’t actually a siren plotting on grabbing her ankle and dragging her down into the water). 

Now those same sea green eyes are staring at her, with an overwhelming amount of trust, webbed prickled fingers lying against her skin, “May I ask you something?” She nodded, presuming it to be something like what is shampoo or summat -- worse case, she finds out he’s a villain and he’s asking for her body as a conduit to commit crime, “Would you help me in seeing if I can grow these like you?” 

Of course she’s alarmed! Who wouldn’t be? A mermaid just asked for her help to see if he could grow legs and she just knows once she sees him out of water, things are going to feel a lot more complicated than right now. 

But how could she say no? He’d been so frightened before yet there was such conviction within his gaze that she could help him. It makes her feel special for being “chosen” by him, so to speak, but also absolutely petrified that she’ll do something wrong like hurt him. Though, from the look he’s giving her, one would think that she’d done it millions of times before. 

“What?” 

He sniffles, rubbing underneath his nose where a droplet of water drips from the bridge, “I would like to try legs,” he tells her, his other hand coming to her other leg and giving a sure squeeze to her knee, “But I cannot do it without your help, as a human.” 

She’s looking at him, eyes wide and mouth agape, “H-how could I?” 

“Some of your. . .um, what do humans speak of their red body substance?” 

Y/N swallows thickly, “My. . .you need my blood?” 

Nodding excitedly, he grins, “Oh yes! Just a droplet, if that would be okay?” 

And this should probably raise a red flag. Should definitely raise some red flags but when she looks at him, she can’t see an ounce of sinister intents within him. Hell, he hadn’t even known what it was! Asked if it was okay if he took just a droplet, looking just about ecstatic. Plus, she’d like to say she was decently good at reading people -- has a wonderful feel for someone’s certain aura that they exude, whether their ambitions be heinous or unsullied. Yet she felt no ill presence when it came to him, even more so when her silence has noticeably made him bashful, “If you do not wish to, I understand. This is very personal.” 

There was something about him. Something about him was mesmeric and compelling, and she reflects on such when she takes one of the shells, pointing the jagged edge down toward her palm. She pauses for a second, gnawing at the inside of her lip and looking over towards him, at his moony gaze, “Will this cause you pain?” He asks naively and when Y/N gives a subtle nod, his once mesmerized face turns concerned, “I do not wish to cause you pain. If you do not wish to, I do not need legs.” 

Technically, Y/N knows he’s right, but that doesn’t stop her from pressing forward and digging the shell into the meat of her palm until a pearl of scarlet pools up. She hisses and Harry’s fingers dig in deeper into her thigh, eyes undeviating from her face, a small gasp leaving him, “I wish you had not done that for the sake of me! You are hurt.” 

She shakes her head, “I’m okay, I’m okay,” she holds out her hand towards him, “I -- um -- is that enough.” 

He eyes her worriedly as he nods slow, “Yes,” he murmurs, “Are you sure you want to help me?” When she agrees one last time, he takes his hands from her thighs so that he can move over to her side, fingers digging into the wooden planks of the dock as he flips his tail up from the water, splattering her with some droplets. 

It’s just as gorgeous as it was the first time she’d seen it. A beautiful amalgamation of a purpled blue hued scales that hold her in awe, as it floats and flutters through the water. She can’t tear her eyes from it and she’s certain that she wouldn’t if not for the gentle hand that lays against her knee, “You do not have to.” He reminds her carefully and in response she turns her hand downward, the blood that had pooled slid off the skin of her palm, staining the skin a faded red and dripped atop of the tail. 

For a few moments nothing happens -- Y/N is beginning to wonder if he really did trick her -- but a swirl of marbled colors float past her pupils. Her lips slowly part, watching the colors of the tail fade into a fleshy color and it begins to divide akin to telophase, separating into legs and her heart drums against her chest as it finalizes. When her gaze flickers back up to him, seeing his own eyes have blown wide and he looks up at her as he begins to slowly sink. Y/N doesn’t understand what’s happening until she realizes that he has never swam with legs before so she reaches out quickly and grabs his arm, “Grab onto the dock!” She orders, “Onto the dock!” He grabs hold of it, but instead of sitting in the water as she had expected, he braces himself. Digging his fingers into the wood, he heaves himself up, muscles in his biceps straining as he lifts onto the dock and drags himself up. 

Y/N’s eyes trail up the smooth, pale skin of his legs but quickly deviates her gaze from his bare crotch, “Jesus!” She exclaimed, and when she hears the snap of a twig over to her right, she’s pushing herself up from her spot, “C’mon we need to -- we need to get you inside.” She doesn’t know if it was an animal, or a person, but if it were a person she sure as hell didn’t need Miss. Eloise telling her grandparents that she was having “sexual relations with a boy on their dock” out in the open. 

Harry follows suit, pressing himself up from the dock on shaky, doe wobbly legs. Y/N’s hands shoot out to grab him before he can fall, “Can you move them?” She asks and his brows furrow, focusing on them before he visibly picks one up and she nods, “That’s it, now you take a step forward like -- like this,” she demonstrates, still holding onto him so that he wouldn’t fall and he slowly, but surely, takes a step forward, “There you go! There you go, good, take another. . .” 

                                                           .                             .                              .

“I’m good -- yes Niall. . .yes, I’m sure I don’t want to go out,” she thumbs against the back of her phone, “I’m sleepy.” 

“Aish, fine, fine,” he huffed, “I guess a mattress is more fun than your good pal Niall.” 

Y/N looks at the man adorned in some of her granddad’s old sweatpants and a worn, battered college sweatshirt, as she breathes out a soft sigh, “Today it sure is. I’ll talk to you later Ni, love you.” 

After a reciprocated declare of his love for her, she hangs up the phone and holds it anxiously between her hands. She’s standing at the doorway, hesitant to walk back into the living room fully because she doesn’t know exactly what to do next. He’s looking around with these large, wondrous eyes all around him. She wishes she could pick into his brain, experience what he’s experiencing for the first time. Despite the muggy night, Harry had been shivering by the time they got to the cabin so she had a small portable heater set up on him. His hair had begun to dry in soft, brown curls, a few strands still clung to his forehead but he didn’t seem bothered by it. 

No, he seemed much more interested in the whirring of the heater as he begins to slip from the couch (which he’d asked if it had been stuffed with sand), to his knees, his hands clasping around the edge of the coffee table, and marveling at the small, black fan. When he reaches out to poke at the fan, he finds that it’s much too hot, and retracts his finger, placing it into his mouth yet still intrigued by it. He must feel her gaze set on him, because his eyes flicker up to her, “This. . .thing, is very. . .weird.” He tells her, “It is hot and now so am I. Where does this heat come from?” 

Y/N smiles, “You know, m’not sure,” she tells him, but takes this as her cue to approach him. If he’s hot there’s no need for it to be on, so she reaches out to twist it off but before she can touch the knob, Harry reaches out and grabs her -- his touch is much less prickly than before. . .actually, it had become incredibly soft -- his spindly fingers linking around her wrist. 

“It is hot,” he reminds her, “Please do not harm yourself.” 

“I’ll only touch the knob. That part isn’t hot,” she assures him and albeit him appearing skeptical of this, he lets his fingers slip away from her. Y/N turns off the heater and sets it off to the side before she takes a seat on the coffee table, looking down towards Harry who now has made himself comfortable on the floor. His legs are long and splayed out given he particularly doesn’t understand how to work them all the way yet, so his knee rests against her shin. “So, you have legs. What do we do now?” 

He shuffles, another look of wonderment overtaking his face, a large smile on his mouth, “I wish to see everything you have described and more! I want to. . .to go to “theaters” and “grocery stores”. I would like to attend a party in which a human man jumps from a roof! I --” he’s cut off by the low growl from his stomach, and he looks from it, back to her, “But first I must eat. Do you have seaweed?”