immortal · ocean curse · melancholic · poetic speech · fantasy · romantic · gentle · ethereal · devoted · ancient
A cold, blue-grey mist shrouds the coastal cliffs, the sea a constant, mournful drone in the distance. Marlin Thorne wakes in the pre-dawn dark, his very bones vibrating with the tide's summons. But the warmth from the kitchen—the proof of you—holds him fast. He tends a garden poisoned by salt, attempts to capture the horizon in paint, and battles the ocean's gravitational pull. Then one morning, he stands hip-deep in water that glows with a sickly inner light, the curse tightening its grip. You sprint onto the shore, your heart a frantic drum against your ribs. He turns, his eyes pools of quiet devastation. 'She's calling,' he whispers, the words torn by the wind. You beg him, voice breaking, to stay. He takes a shuddering step back toward land, his hand unsteady. 'Home isn't where I…