IT'S SUPERNATURAL

“This is just cruel. There's nothing to do down here,” he complains in a pout, letting a pinky-sized seahorse weave in through the gaps between his fingers. “Mother is cruel, isn't she?”

The seahorse does not respond, as seahorses tend to do. But Leehan can tell the little guy is unimpressed by his whining from the way he wiggles away, his tiny tail following after him.

“Bet your mother is nice to you. You lucky bastard,” he huffs, leaning up to sit and raise his head to the light leaking into the cavern, refracting through the inky blue.

It's such a shame—that he's here and not out there. All because he's got the title of a prince and nothing else to aid that privilege. Not even the threat of a crown, since that'll be a burden for his older sisters to carry. 

So yeah, being the youngest of the seven royal siblings simply means that as much as he's coddled with affection, he's also suffocating down here without any freedom. 

He's done everything he can to pass the time already: rearranged his entire trove of trinkets—lost items stolen by the sea that he'd had the pleasure of finding, like a broken shard of something smooth and reflective, but solid, unlike water; then he’d mentally catalogued all the fish within a two hundred feet radius; then he’d swum in big, whirlpool-inducing circles until that too got too stupid to continue with. 

There's only so much to do down in the sea—nothing adventurous or risky. Other than the occasional exploring, of course.

The first time Leehan had felt the rush of chemicals was when he'd found the ruins.

He visits it often, to loot pretty items from. Not that it's really looting at all—it looked too weathered and destroyed for it to still belong to anyone. An orphan of a wreck, of…something. A vessel of sorts—with planks that cased the body, and a circle that turned around and around if Leehan pushed it with strength, and a faded painting—of a girl. 

She had looked his age. And like she held the wonders of the world in her water-worn eyes, like something Leehan yearns to see himself one day. 

But he's not allowed up there, is he? 

Hmff.

What a stupid rule! The queen—his mother—had said he'd get skewered by a human pole if he even tried such a feat to sneak away. His sisters are all of the same mind; Wonyoung thinks he's going to get fried on a rock and fed to land creatures; Gaeul finds it amusing when he yelps every time she scares him with the idea of an instrument that would chop of all his beautiful auburn hair in a single snip; Liz is positively terrified he's going to somehow get his tail caught in a fishing net and bleed out.

His best friend and attendant Riwoo, on the other hand—just thinks he's going to go and fall in love with the first person he sees up there. 

“All the romance is in the ocean, Leehan-ah. Find a good merperson and marry them into royalty,” he says, often as he's checking for seaweed between his teeth, basking on Leehan’s bed instead of doing his assigned duties—(Like picking seaweed out of Leehan's teeth, for example.) “Every soul here would be lining up the second you show an interest in them—heck, even I would.” 

“That's because you just want to stop working.”

“Unemployment is a luxury to the common merpeople, okay? A prince wouldn't understand this,” Riwoo rolls his eyes. “What's so good up there on land anyways? It's just danger, danger, danger, when you can just stay here and swim with fish all day. I thought you liked that.”

“I do,” Leehan admits with a forlorn sigh. “But…there's more out there. So much I want to see and explore and—the people! The two-limbed creatures! I want to know how they walk…and how they breathe without gills, and how they—”

“I wasn't asking for a monologue,” Riwoo grumbles. “Your mother would skin me alive if she heard me entertain this conversation. Talking about land-people like you’re intending to leave all of this behind. That's not very smart.”

The talk is a bitter memory. It had ended with Riwoo redirecting the topic to his coming-of-age ceremony soon and how he needed to be on his best behaviour for it if he didn't want to get both of them in trouble with the queen. 

It's in a few days from today—and Leehan hasn't even practiced the song he's supposed to be performing in front of the royal audience. He'd been too busy collecting knick-knacks and daydreaming about the surface to give it any thought. 

How lovely it would be to visit.

The sea is uncharacteristically turbulent tonight; he can't see it, but his senses tell him a storm is coming. 

Leehan has nothing to worry because he's a strong swimmer, of course. In fact, he loves the ocean when it storms. How the waves ripple and how it gets warmer the deeper you go, all the cold water rolling over to the top. How dolphins and sharks swim to safer spots to take cover until the hurricane has passed. How he knows the merpeople will be distracted with taking care of the smaller, more vulnerable creatures tonight—so that no one will think twice about pestering his solitude. 

Maybe that's why he feels brave enough to swim up, the urge pushing like a tide against his body. Maybe it's the looming shadow of the ceremony that will happen, staring at him like it'll be the last day he gets to do anything out of his own will and want. 

Something about the storm calls to him like a Siren song—and this time, he listens. 

°‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡

Grey clouds hang low in the sky, rolling and coiling and not dissimilar to the waves underneath, as Leehan breaks through the surface, gasping sharply as his lungs fill with cold air. 

His eyes blink open out of the water, adjusting to the sight in front. 

And it's beautiful. 

It's every bit as breathtaking as he'd imagined, the puffy clouds he'd only heard stories of from the traveller merpeople, or from the visitors from neighbouring kingdoms that Leehan would beg for information from, eager to know more about ships and sailors and something called birds. 

And now he gets to see them in the flesh! A caw echoes from above as something white and quick swoops by, flapping off into the distance. Leehan watches in awe. 

The moon is pale and bulbous—like a glowing ball of mist, peeking out from behind wisps of clouds. He knows the moon well, it shapes the tides after all, but to see it this close, not just in the light that leaks through into the water and onto his skin when he longs to see the real thing. Unreal, that's what he'd call this.

Between the rise and fall of waves, and the inky horizon where the sky and the ocean melt into one, he sees it.

Or hears it, more accurately.

The sound of song and celebration. 

And then comes into view, a giant, curving beast, reminding him of the wreck he'd found under the water long ago. A ship. 

Leehan inches closer without even thinking.

“—fifteen strokes to midnight, everyone grab booze and get ready for the fireworks!” 

“The princess shouldn't be drinking,” a grumpy voice joins the lilted exclamation, and a face comes into view. “She’s a mess when she drinks. I’m not cleaning up throw-up off the deck,”  the young man says, his narrowed cat-like eyes levelled on someone who grins back at him.

A…girl?

“Oh let loose, Taesan,” you toss back carelessly, stretching your arm into the air and letting your billowy shirt ripple in the sharp wind, like you enjoy getting caught in a storm. Leehan peers throw a gap in the ship’s wood, where he’d pulled himself up for a better look. 

“I am let loose. You’re just reckless when you’re out on the sea, and I am not reporting back to your father to say I’ve lost the princess to a glorified bowl of soup.”

“Did you just call the ocean a bowl of soup—”

“A cold bowl of soup. Same principles,” the boy—Taesan—cuts you off. “I am not letting you die on your birthday of all days. The king will have my head.”

Leehan is eavesdropping with acute attention, his ears perking up every time you speak back to Taesan, all giddy as a thunder-clap erupts above and your face grows brighter at the prospect of rain, grinning as the first drop hits your cheek.

“Three… Two…” The rest of the ship starts to count, a band of people readying with their strange looking musical instruments before a merry tune floats out. “ONE!”

A sonorous blast goes off and when Leehan looks up, he sees lights sparking into the sky, blooming before it spreads into petals, like a giant artwork in the sky. Over and over as the music amplifies and people begin to cheer and laugh and dance around on the deck. He can't look away once he's seen you smile at it, rushing to climb the mast to get a better look, balancing yourself effortlessly with one hand and one foot, the rest weightless against the whip of cold wind. 

You…you're beautiful. And he knows you, somehow. 

“Get down from there!” Taesan shouts over the sound, ignoring how there's a trumpet blowing right into his ear. He tosses over an annoyed look before glaring up at you again. “Y/N, DON'T MAKE ME COME UP THERE YOUNG LADY—”

“It's so pretty, Taesan—look!!” You’re not even looking at him while you say it, eyes glazed over in wonder as the sparks reflect in them. You see the horizon, the moon, breathe in deep like you could swallow the night and keep it inside you forever if you try.

Leehan feels the same—but he's not looking at the moon or the sea or the clouds or the light anymore. His mouth is parted in awe as he looks up at your carefree form, the way wind whips at your loose hair. 

And then, a shift in the air. He feels it before anyone else does, a prickle on his skin. 

The storm—it’s not going to stay down.

The ship is too busy indulging in booze and festivities to notice, and Leehan feels a rush of panic when he sees you climb higher up the pole, despite Taesan’s worried calls. He has to do something. He could…

What can he do? It's not like you’d trust him. He's not supposed to contact humans, he knows that, he knows he’ll get in trouble for coming up to the surface, let alone if he were to meddle in human business. 

Before he can make a plan or a move, a bolt of lightning strikes the centre of the water and he feels himself lose his balance, the waves growing angrier. They beat against the body of the ship, against Leehan’s own limbs and tail—but he regains control quick enough, swimming up ahead where the current isn’t harsh yet. 

The winds howl louder, and someone in the ship hollers, “Shouldn’t we go take cover now? It’s not safe to stay out…the waves don’t look so good.”

“Y/N, come down now!” Taesan tries again, between ushering most of the workers and shiphands to get back into the cabins, away from the surface. “Y/N! Princess, please—”

He doesn’t get to say more before a giant wave of water crashes into the wood, over the ledges, flooding into where the people are slowly packing up their instruments and food. It drenches the bottom of their feet.

Taesan looks down, then up. “Y/N, THE STORM ISN’T GOING DOWN WITHOUT A FIGHT. STOP FOOLING AROUND NOW!”

But you’re too high up to hear, too lost in the whistle of sea-winds and the scent of the ocean to care. Too in love with the storm. 

And then.

“Y/N, look out!” Leehan doesn't even realise it's his own voice that screams, the surge of tide caving in on the ship like a gargantuan creature, opening its jaws and clapping shut over the miniscule creatures overboard. It sweeps; Leehan feels the ship rock and his fingers slide over the surface, submerging him into the water before he knows it. 

When he comes up again, breaths shallow and ragged and terrified, he sees people flailing to hold onto anything they can. “Help!” someone screams, and Taesan has found footing to immediately grab them, even though he himself looks thoroughly soaked. He ushers whoever is left on the deck back under the floorboards, prying it open and holding it up with sheer strength. 

The crew help each other, until Taesan pushes the last person in and shuts the door before looking for you again. “Princess?” his voice wavers, eyes squinting through the foggy spray of water. 

He tries again, with no avail. Another tide washes over, and he's forced backwards, falling against the wood. Leehan doesn't know what's happening, just that he can't see you up there either… There's no one atop the mast. Just the wild flap of a flag and rainclouds descending upon it, bringing down a heavy sheet of rain before Leehan can even catch his breath.

Lightning strikes again, and he can hear the frantic shouts of your name out of Taesan’s mouth, roaring over the ledge before someone creeps up to force him inside as well, knowing full well he's a gone man if he keeps risking the storm like this. 

Leehan feels the panic in himself—he’s not sure why he cares, just that he does.

His head swivels around like a pendulum, knowing if you aren’t anywhere on the ship then you have to have gotten swept away by the water somehow, somewhere under. When he can’t see anything through the crash and calamity, he dives underneath, deeper until things make sense to him again—until he can feel every drop of the ocean on his own skin. 

And there it is—a silver glint, a white burn in all the greys and blues that catch his attention. 

He propels towards it without wasting a second, your slowly sinking body coming into view the closer he gets, the sparkle evidently from the brooch on your shirt. Leehan’s hands find your spine, he sees how you’ve lost consciousness, your eyes closed and skin turning pale in his hold. You look so…

Fragile.

You can’t breathe in here. You aren’t like him.

Leehan holds you close to him before he brings you up to the surface, letting the air enter your lungs as he swims through the storm, in the hopes that he can bring you to shore just as long as he follows the dot of a ship vanishing into the distance. 

The sun finds your eyelids and creeps its light underneath, stirring you awake from what feels like the longest, deepest slumber you have ever had. 

There's sand underneath your fingertips and soles when you come to; the sky is blazing blue, a seagull cawing as it flies across your vision. 

Huh…

“Where am I…” Your voice is hoarse when it comes out, head swimming in delirium. But your question is answered the second you look around, leaning up on your elbow only to see a castle in the distance, up the mountain of rocks near where you seem to have crashed. 

Your castle. 

Your memory is but a blur. There was water. You were standing above the world, up on the ship a second ago, feeling alive—and now, you're sunbathing with sand all over you. How weird…

How weird, that you also remember a voice, a boyish one, saying your name. You remember…him singing. A soft lullaby that sounds a little sad in your memory. A little desperate. You remember wanting to wake up to see who such a beautiful voice belonged to. Red hair? But you can't be sure.

Maybe he was a dream, but he'd surely saved you, in one way or another, you think as you look out to the sea.

Before you can reach out to the water to test if he's watching from somewhere, someone else interrupts your curiosity.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING OVER THERE!?” Taesan scolds, rushing down the rocks and almost slipping on one of them before he catches himself. “I've been—” he heaves, running to kneel next to you, checking for injuries the second he's got you. “I've been looking all night. The entire castle has. And you're here! How!?”

“A boy.”

Your whisper has him stare at you in confusion. “A boy?”

“I…” You don't know how to explain it to him, that you'd seen something no dream can match. The loveliest siren song in the universe. So you shake your head and replace it with a, “Did you miss me too much?”

That seems to do the trick. In a split second, his brows furrow at your audacity to be teasing even after surviving a near-death experience. He hauls you up without fussing about concussions like he was going to, scolding you for trying to be a daredevil and threatening to never let you on a ship ever again. 

You pout, but you let him lead you to the castle, where you have no doubt your mother has a long list of angry scoldings set out for you, and the medic will no doubt force treatments down your throat whether you consent or not. 

But the whole way there, even as people rush to engulf you in relieved hugs for making it back home, all you can think of is the red haired boy who's saved your life.

°‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡

Leehan watches until you've been escorted off the shore, his arms braced on the rock he's hiding behind, letting the water keep him floating. 

“She's gone…” he whispers to himself once he no longer sees you, a soft dejection catching in his throat.

Leehan had to sing to keep you from falling back asleep, slowly thumbing away the droplets of water on your cheeks until he knew you were okay, quickly scurrying off to take cover before you could see his tail and pass out from fright. 

But watching you, keeping you company, seeing your lashes flutter awake, he'd figured out where he'd seen that face before.

At the wreck underneath the ocean, in the picture he'd been visiting to see for a while now. It's you, but now in the flesh—real, with a pulse and a heart that came back to life when he'd squeezed water out your lungs and quietly begged for the ocean to take mercy on you. 

When he returns back down to where he's supposed to have been, knowing several complaints await him this morning both from Riwoo as well as the queen, he doesn't feel antsy like he should be. 

He feels hopeful. Like new life has been breathed into him, too. His tail wiggles excitedly as he swims down to his abode, skin tingling everywhere from where you'd accidentally held on too tight as you came awake, a smile tugging at the corners of his lip.

And Leehan, he's already dreaming about coming to the surface once more, to the sun and the sky and the birds, everything the ocean refuses to offer.

Some days, swimming feels an awful lot like drowning. Tonight, he’ll be floating on a puff of clouds at the thought of seeing you again. 

REBLOGS + COMMENTS APPRECIATED!

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thank you for the support, ily ♡⸝⸝