Kiss & Tell by Sereia
SessKag, Resort Owner, Opalescent
Sesshoumaru sighed as he slumped on the beach, loosening his tie and stuffing it in his pocket, uncaring of how the wet sand stained his pants.
It had been a rough day.
The first tourism group had been half an hour late, causing each of the following groups to run behind as well. One of the concierges had called in sick, so he'd had to fill in, carting various luggage to and from rooms, leaving his limbs heavy and aching.
The charming woman in the penthouse suite had ended his day by chastising him for the severe lack of fried food on the room service menu, claiming all the fresh seafood tasted like seawater.
Most days, he loved his job; the seaside resort was a wonderful getaway filled with brightly coloured tourists determined to spend as much money as possible. He'd included various activities for children, enticing families of all sizes to stay as long as possible.
His competitors swore he was only in it for the money, but those who worked at the resort knew how much he spoiled the children, going as far as to dress up as fairy tale creatures and lead them on scavenger hunts. He'd had to send his brother on the hunt today, which was part of the reason he was in such a foul mood.
Inuyasha had done a fine enough job, especially considering a gaggle of children had jumped his assistant and carried him off to hold him for ransom, but it was Sesshoumaru's favourite part of the day, and he'd missed it due to being tied up on the corporate side of things.
He lay down on the sand, letting the waves wash over him, glad he'd thought to remove his shoes back at his bungalow. The resort brought in enough revenue that he'd been able to buy a large section of the beach for his private use, which came in handy at the end of a tiresome day. His mother had insisted on levelling part of it in order to build a home typical of someone of his financial status, but Sesshoumaru had no need for it.
A hut had fewer rooms to clean, anyway.
Clouds passed lazily above him, moving between and around each other as the fading sunlight stained the sky in a myriad of warm, soothing colours. Sesshoumaru lay unmoving, eyes slowly sliding shut as the rest of his senses came alive.
The gulls had died down, but waves crashed upon the shore, sending the tangy scent of seawater wafting up his nostrils. The sand was earthy, crunching beneath him with every breath he dragged into his lungs, while the touch on his foot—
He pushed himself up onto his elbows, eyes wide as he readied to shake whatever sea creature had attached itself to his person but found twin sapphire orbs staring back at him.
"Who—" The words died on his tongue as she smiled at him, eyes lighting up in the evening sun.
"It worked!" she said, pushing herself up, opalescent pearls contrasting against damp, ebony locks. One side of her hair was pulled back with an ornate headpiece, the rest draped over her shoulder. "I was so worried I was too late!"
"Too late for what?" he asked, still thoroughly confused.
"To save you." She leaned forward between his legs, resting her chin on her palm. "You'd been lying here so long that I wasn't sure I'd made it in time."
His brows furrowed. "And you thought to do so by kissing my foot?"
"Where else would I do it? That's where humans keep their hearts, isn't it?"
"You speak as if you are not one—" Sesshoumaru sat up fully, then blinked a few times to ensure he wasn't hallucinating. She gave him a mischievous smile as she lifted her tail, scales shimmering in the fading sunlight.
"They match your eyes," he said, still processing that merfolk were real.
She grinned. "Thanks for noticing." He continued to stare at her, eyes and smile unwavering as he was forced to finally look away, heat blooming on the top of his cheeks.
"I appreciate the rescue attempt," he said, bending one leg to rest his arm on it in a bid to make himself more comfortable, "but that is not where my heart is kept."
"Really?"
Sesshoumaru nodded, then tapped the left side of his chest. "We humans need to keep it a little closer to our lungs."
"Oh!" she said, eyes lighting up. "You mean the things you need air for!" The gills on her neck fluttered, and Sesshoumaru nodded slightly.
"Do you not have lungs as well?"
She cocked her head to the side. "Well, yes, but I don't need as much air as you, so they're not as big." She reached out, placing a wet hand on his chest, though he hardly noticed the dampness soaking into his shirt, heart beating wildly as he took in her aquatic features.
Pale skin gave way to finned ears, patches of glittering scales covering various spots on her arms and back. There was webbing between her clawed fingers, translucent like the fins on her tail. But it was her eyes that captured him—indigo orbs lightening to cerulean at the centre, shining like jewels as the last rays of sunlight bounced over the waves.
"You are beautiful," he blurted, heat darkening his face when she looked up at him, realizing he'd said the words aloud. Her lips curved up into a soft smile.
"Thank you," she said, waves washing over them both.
Sesshoumaru licked dry lips. "Do you have a name?"
"I do." He raised an eyebrow when she didn't immediately offer it, melodic laughter wafting down the beach. "I don't know if you've earned it yet," she said, pulling away.
He caught her wrist, leaning closer. "What would I need to do?"
Jewelled eyes lit up. "Come swimming with me!"
Sesshoumaru blanched. "Now?"
The siren shook her head, motioning to the clouds in the distance. "The storm will be here soon."
"Tomorrow, then?" he asked, unable to keep the eagerness out of his voice.
She nodded, sliding back into the surf. "The water will be calmer at twilight." She prepared to dive beneath the waves, then flashed him a grin over her shoulder. "You should probably wear less clothing, though." With a wink and a splash, she was gone, leaving Sesshoumaru alone on the sand.
He raked a hand through his hair, wondering if the stress of the day had caused him to hallucinate, but the handprint on his shirt said otherwise. He gathered his things, eager to get to bed so tomorrow would come sooner.
He'd never wanted to go for a swim so badly before in his life.