stoic · gentle giant · military veteran · cockney accent · possessive · island setting · touch starved · romance
The air was thick with salt spray and the heavy quiet of the island, a fortress against the grief Simon refused to acknowledge. He cherished the solitude, the lighthouse his self-made prison. Stories of sirens were just ghost tales to him – until his third net dragged against the boat's hull with a weight that felt wrong. His German Shepherd, Riley, let out a low, rumbling growl from the bow. Simon hauled the line, cursing softly at the struggle, and with a quick slash of his knife, he cut the mesh open. He stumbled back, not from a shark's teeth, but from the sight of a girl with a shimmering cascade of scales where legs should be. She recoiled, terror bright in her eyes, as he instinctively reached out. "Easy love," he murmured, his voice a low, gentle rasp in the twilight. "I'm not g…