Just when I had approached the edge of the bath-like ruins, it only then dawned on me that these excessive stone walls were at least 2 metres high, so high that I couldnât even see Agaresâs face. I had to walk at least 10 metres around the stone wall before I could find a small opening that could allow me to climb up.
Story translated by Chrysanthemum Garden.
Down below couldnât be considered a swamp, rather the water was clear and gleaming with light, along with a vegetation of lily pads floating on top of the waterâs surface. However, the water didnât possess the same clarity as the lake, so I couldnât even see where Agares was at.
I sat down on the top of the stone wall and swayed the grilled fish in my hand, the same way people would call over a dolphin in an aquarium. âHey, I came to thank you for your help. If you still donât want to appear, then Iâll head back!âÂ
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After having said that, I planned to stand up. To be honest, I wished that Agares wouldnât immediately appear just so that I could have a reason to leave this place sooner, though I had a feeling that it was naturally impossible. Right at that moment, I promptly caught sight of a webbed claw emerging from out under the water, stretching past the floating duckweeds. It then grasped onto my ankle that was swaying above the pond. A long, evil yet beautiful face floated out from the dark shadows, and it approached closer to my knee.Â
Even though I was mentally prepared, and had instinctively withdrawn my body, the sudden movement had caused me to lose my centre of gravity. Before I could fall, something tightened around my waist and my entire body was then pulled forward, making me come close to a damp chest. When I raised my head, a pair of lips faintly brushed onto the bridge of my nose, and my eyes just stared straight into his enigmatic ones as I felt my breath hitch inside of my throat.Â
âDesharow? Where are you? I canât see you anymore!âÂ
Not far away, the sound of Lafarre shouting abruptly jolted me awake from the trance, and I immediately pushed against Agares. I steadied my body to sit up once again and raised the grilled fish that was in my hand. Then I responded to his call, âIâm over here, donât worry! Iâm just going to feed him!âÂ
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âTo feedâŠ?â In a low voice, Agares repeated that particular word and stared at me bewilderedly with his eyebrows raised high, as though he couldnât comprehend the meaning behind that word. After all,
they
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âErâŠâ I brandished the roasted fish in my hand before lifting one of his webbed hands up. Then I shoved the fork into his hand, while explaining, âBasicallyâŠthis is for you to eat, itâs our food. It was roasted over a fire, can you eat it?âÂ
His eyelids drooped down as he stared at the roasted fish in my hand, and when he gave the fish a whiff, his eyebrows furrowed. I wasnât sure if the scent of the spice used for roasting, brought here all the way from Russia by Lafarre, catered to Merfolksâ taste. But in short, I loved to use this spice all year round. It was thanks to this that I was able to settle problems regarding personal food preferences during the long voyage.
If Agares doesnât want to eat it, then this roasted fish shall be mine.
I stared at the delicacy in my hand, swallowing a mouthful of saliva.Â
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I was so certain that he would be disgusted and reject the food, but unexpectedly, he used one of his webbed hands to grab a hold of my wrist. After giving the fish a few licks, he opened up his mouth and tore off a large piece in one bite. Without even bothering about the fish bones, he just swallowed it down, or rather you could say, he wolfed it down.Â
Anxiously being worried that he might swallow the fork in the next mouthful as well, I hastily pulled it away from him, which coincidentally also pulled out half the fish right from Agaresâs mouth. âHey, hey! Thatâs not how you use a fork, donât keep eating until you even eat the utensils!âÂ
Agares licked the sides of his lips that were slick with grease. He then exposed his sharp fangs in dissatisfaction, and as he stared at the remainder of the roasted fish in my hand, his entire face pulled into a cut sorry figure. Seeing him like this, I couldnât help but âpfftâ out in laughter. I was laughing so hard that I swayed from side to side, so much that even the roasted fish almost fell out from being held unstably.Â
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However, the person who played the leading role in this comedy seemed as though he hadnât had the slightest clue about his antics and just pensively lifted his eyes to look at me. His indifference was just like a child who was plotting cheap tricks, calm and impassive. The corners of his lips hooked up with a subtled curve, as though he was brewing some kind of crafty plot to take revenge against me.Â
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I timely held down my laughter and thought,
Curses! I almost forgot about that. If I joked around with this treacherous beast, the one who will suffer in the end will be me! Â
âSgâŠatlr lr tbk sbeâgf reqqbrfv ab tbiv atlr atlcu.âÂ
In order to make up for my âoffensive behaviourâ just now, I shifted his attention onto something else. I feigned innocence and grabbed a hold of his webbed hands, shoving the fork into the seam of his fingers, making him hold it in a way that resembled how you would normally hold a fork.
It was fortunate that the membrane in-between his fingers didnât hinder this process.Â
âCoafg atja, sbe pera tjnf ab fja la ilxf atlr, kjamtâŠâÂ
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P ibkfgfv ws tfjv jcv mbcmfcagjafv bc qgfrfcalcu wsrfio fjalcu klat gfolcfv ajyif wjccfgr. P yla boo j rwjii mtecx bo olrt ogbw atf fvuf bo atf obgx, rkjiibkfv la vbkc, jcv atfc mjgfoeiis rqja bea atf rwjii olrt ybcfr. P qegqbrfis jnblvfv Cujgfrâr ujhf jcv rjlv, âKtlr lr tbk kf fja, agbeyifrbwf lrcâa la?â Â
After saying that, I still couldnât resist looking at Agaresâs face.Â
He pensively sized my table manners and nodded his head, after that, he lifted up his other webbed hand and used his fingers to rub the corners of my mouth, wiping away any trace of glistening oil. Then he unexpectedly stuck out his tongue to lick at the residue a little. After that, as though he had finally tasted the most delicious food in the world, the corners of his lips turned up, forming a faint smile as he stared at me, slightly giving off a look of satisfaction.Â
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I stared at him dumbfoundedly, my cheeks quickly lit aflamed. At that moment, all I wanted to do was climb over the wall and run away. However, once I lifted up my legs, his webbed hands seemed to have instinctively latched onto them.Â
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Then, he carelessly swept a glance towards my restless legs.Â
My movements, just like that, became frozen in place.Â
I was heavily aware that I should not escape, else this beast would definitely become overexcited. Moreover, I was certain that he was going to catch me and steal me away right from the spot, in front of my classmates no less!
Considering these factors, without having any other option, I feigned calmness and set my foot back down, continuing to eat a few chunks off the roasted fish in demonstration. Agares then genuinely followed with his head, lowering it to mimic the way I was eating.Â
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He acted out his way of holding the fork. After observing the way I ate with half-lidded eyes, his long eyelashes drooped down as he used his thin lips to delicately nibble on the piece of fish,
motions so deliberate
that even his cheeks barely moved. Only his Adamâs apple protruded once, followed by the sound of swallowing, saliva going down his long slender throat.  Â
I couldnât help but be dazed for a second. I had to admit, the way he ate made him appear like a tempting gentleman. If, letâs say, he didnât have the habit of licking his lips with his tongue
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this act wouldâve made him appear to be a perverted person who frequently visited bars to prey upon people to have a sexual tryst with.Â
Story translated by Chrysanthemum Garden.
A loversâ\ntryst
.
When this sentence drifted past my mind, my nerves jumped. I suddenly felt like I was sitting on pins and needles, because, at this moment, in this kind of moonlight and in this kind of pond, both of us were sneakily hiding here and eating roasted fish.
Wasnât this just like having a romantic dinner during a loverâs tryst?!
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This is way too strangeâŠ
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As I thought about this, my mind couldnât suppress the image of things relating to the physical body, and the feeling of shame made sweat drip down my forehead. My gaze met Agaresâs, and as though stuck together, I was unable to avoid them. Inevitably, I had a premonition that he was about to kiss me. At this time, his grip on the fork loosened and his webbed hands followed the arch of my back upwards to my nape, his fishtail had been propped up to support his body weight, allowing his whole body to emerge from the pool.Â
The ambiguous atmosphere was thick and heavy, like it was going to ignite into flames. If I didnât do something sooner or later, things would develop into looking like the next stage of the loverâs tryst. I shifted my body aside to avoid being plastered against the incoming Agares, while simultaneously feeling around my body to see if I could find anything that could shift his attention away. Immediately, in the pocket of my trousers, I felt a very solid metallic object. I fished it out.Â
It was Lafarreâs compass. Its metal pointer shook frantically, just like my heart. I noticed that the head of the arrow pointed in Agaresâs direction. So using both of my hands, I held the compass right in front of me, yet the gadget didnât prevent Agares from coming closer. Therefore, I pointed to it and raised my voice, âThis is a compass!âÂ
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Agares seemed to have been caught off guard by me. Feeling baffled, he shot a glance at the object in my hand, clamped it with two fingers and shook it. I noted that the compass seemed to have succeeded in taking over his curiosity, and I couldnât help but somewhat feel secretly delighted. But of course, I couldnât let that expression be shown on my face.Â
Story translated by Chrysanthemum Garden.
I rubbed my chin for a sec, and like an earnest teacher, I fingered lightly at the metal pointer, asking, âDo you know why this thing keeps pointing at you?âÂ
Agares used his destructively pointed fingernail to poked at the glass case a couple of times, and then he accidently made a small superficial crack on it before shaking his head to indicate that he didnât know why.Â
I touched the compass in distress.
Damn it, Lafarre would definitely murder me. As an explorer he really treasures his compass.
I rubbed the space between my eyebrows, my head hurting. With a sigh, I continued, âItâs because your body carries a magnetic field. It attracts the compass thus making the arrow alter its orientation.âÂ
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âMagnetic field, attâŠractâŠâ
In a low voice, Agares repeated these two Russian words, his pronunciation was intermittent as well as unproficient, obviously showing that using Russian to say these words was overly complicated to him. Even so, he reconsidered every word and chewed out each and every letter continuously, like he was trying really hard to attempt to comprehend my language.  Â
While rephrasing those words aloud, he kept his gaze on me as if he was not just simply repeating what I said, but rather expressing his own meaning. This kind of real, yet seemingly fake, misperception made a shudder-like throb erupt from within my heart. I immediately avoided those pair of serene, yet frightening, eyes and grabbed his webbed hands in order to place them on the compass. Immediately, the head of the needle went crazy, shaking left and right, making it look like it was going to break out of its glass case at any time.
âLook,â I took a deep breath, attempting to calm my beating chest, before explaining in English, âAttract, you attract it. Because of you⊠âÂ
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My words were paused when Agares grabbed onto my wrist. I jumped in fright and had nearly thrown the compass into the water, but with Agares quick reflexes, he managed to catch it. He then went to fiddle with the small knob on it. Suddenly, my heart felt like it was the compass, it too was captured in his fingertips; the realization made it hard for me to breathe. I could only feel like a
wooden
I didnât know what he wanted to do or express. I could only look helplessly ahead as he buried himself into my chest, his arms encasing tightly around my waist as his nose pressed against my shirt so that he could deeply inhale my scent. I lowered my head rigidly and saw that his eyes were closed, looking like he had been intoxicated from drinking wine, as if my body emitted some kind of underlying scent that left a rich aftertaste.Â
I immediately felt the hairs all over my body stand up, while simultaneously, I felt every single pore I had suddenly contract due to Agaresâs close proximity. In addition, his hair was issuing a sweet hormonal scent, which continuously rushed into my nostrils, and it was particularly strong at this very moment.Â
I was not certain if it was due to Agaresâs excitement, but what I did know was that I was currently terrified. Once again, I was unable to hold back the urge of wanting to break into a run so that I could flee from the situation
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I subconsciously grabbed the fork that was lying beside me and aimed it towards Agaresâs neck. Fiercely, I warned, âHey. If you dare to do anything to me here, donât hold it against me if I treat you like how I treated the roasted fish!âÂ
ââŠAttractâŠâ Agares, who was delightfully burying his head near my heart, abruptly issued out a low and husky sound. I was astounded for a moment, and in that timespan, I saw Agares lifting up his head. âI⊠attract⊠you⊠DesharowâŠâ I felt his damp lips moving towards my earlobe leaving tiny sparks as he trail up from my neck, âDeeply.âÂ
It was like this sentence was a magical spell that lashed within my eardrums, turning my entire mind into chaos. I didnât know how Agares could be able to determine peopleâs inner emotion through their scents. I, obviously, felt it was absurd, yet I feel like I had unearthed an unbearably embarrassing secret. Suddenly, I lost the ability to refute back, as if my voice had been stolen and had I become completely dumbstruck. Indeed, I felt like I was the same as the compass, beginning to be incapable of resisting this beastâs âmagnetic fieldâ.Â
Story translated by Chrysanthemum Garden.
Just like right now, as Agares pressed his lips onto my earlobes, I faintly felt excitement just from the mere touch.
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Furthermore, it was not just physiologically.Â
My heart thirsted for him to further his violation, to take another step and encroach on me. Even if we were in a taboo situation, this kind of contradicting emotion brought me back to that period when Agares had gone missing. Back when I thought about him under the blanket, alone⊠while masturbating. And the most embarrassing thing was that he had been watching me do it.Â
Curse it, curse it! Could it be that I had developed feelings for him!?
How could my sexual orientation change because of a male mermaid? Iâm clearly just a regular Russian man. I am supposed to like Eva!
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No. This was definitely caused by my Stockholm syndrome. It certainly has been getting worse every day.Â
These kinds of thoughts were all battling inside my head. I was rattled into confusion as Agares pressed me against the stone wall. The moment he lowered his head to press down onto my lips, my entire body exploded, and I sprang up. Panicking, I turned around and jumped from the wall to free myself. But as soon as I landed, I staggered and slipped onto the mushy ground and got my face covered in mud.Â
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I carelessly wiped my face and subconsciously turned my head back, but I saw that Agares didnât immediately come chasing after me. Instead, he just calmly stood behind the stone wall, his eyes drooping down in concentration. Having the stance of a senior looking at my stupid appearance, his eyes held both interest and incomparable ambigiouness.
From the moment the corners of his mouth hooked up, he had already considered me as something extremely amusing. In his eyes, I was like a little imp trying to recover what little pride I had left, but was then thoroughly defeated by him.Â
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âFuck, damn it. This cunning bastard!âÂ
I flew into a rage of humiliation and directed a few words of profanity at him. I even smashed my fist into the mud, and as soon as I frantically rolled over and stood up, I broke into a run. You could even say that I was flying back to the camp, even leaving Lafarreâs questioning from earlier unanswered. Finally, I crouched down, alone, in a corner and washed off the mud on my face.Â
<b>TBC</b>
<b>Cheonsa have something to say: </b>
Aiyah! This chapter somehow leaves a sweet aftertaste in my mouth. ML is simply too cute, mischievous, cunning, adorable, loyal, possessive⊠basically a bundle of goodness. And no matter how much Desharow does, he still canât stop himself from entering Agaresâs claws. This brings us to what we want to say:Â
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<b>THIS IS IMPORTANT!</b>
 Desharow is NOT suffering from Stockholm Syndrome. So please throw that out of your mind.Â
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This plot has a tag called âIMPRINTINGâ and it pretty much goes hand in hand with Twilightâs definition. (Note: everything I state below comes from the Twilight Saga Wiki.) It was mentioned on my Wattpad account, but I didnât say much about it. Now, I am wondering why I didnât mention this from the very beginning. I should have.Â
<b>Meaning:</b> <b>Imprinting</b>
is the involuntary mechanism by which one finds their soulmates. It is a profound, intimate phenomenon that exists in the supernatural/shape-shifter world.
âWhen one imprints on a specific someone, he becomes unconditionally bound to them for the rest of their life. When it happens, the experience is described as being gravitationally pulled toward that person while a glowing heat fills them, and everyone and everything else in their life becomes secondary, and only the imprintee is left to matter, leaving them with a deep need to do anything to please and protect his soulmate, and vice versa.âÂ
: The imprintment for Desharow also has something to do with his genetics!!!
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I donât really care if you guys call Desharow stupid, or that he has no brain cells or dislike him because you guys think heâs weak or just keeps getting himself ârapedâ by the ML, etc. But Iâm just gonna peacefully state why he canât stop himself from being attracted to ML and why his reasoning has stopped. I am also deeply sorry that I didnât mention this in the beginning at all. I apologize if this message offends anyone, but thatâs not my intention. I just want to make a clarification.Â