Amy heard it first. Her head snapped toward the kitchen doorway like a shark catching the scent of blood in the water.
Then she saw him and gasped.
Silver hair. Fluffy white bathrobe. Both hands were strangling the walker like it had personally insulted his ancestors.
"Oh…" Amy breathed, a grin spreading across her face. "...my God. Is that him?"
Jurin watched Amy saunter towards him with a huge grin. "Yes, but please don't make it—"
Amy promptly grabbed Riven’s face, tilting it from side to side with an appraising gaze.
"—weird," Jurin finished with a resigned sigh.
Riven stiffened, attempting to pull away, but Amy’s grip remained firm as she examined him with exaggerated scrutiny.
"Interesting bone structure," Amy said, turning his head left. "Unnatural silver eyes." She tilted it right. "Natural or supernatural?"
“I fail to see the relevance of this inspection,” he said, his voice muffled by her palms.
She leaned in closer, pulling his eyelids wide. "Wait, are your pupils dilated? Like a… great white shark? That's either terrifying or attractive. I haven't decided yet."
"Unhand me," Riven demanded, slapping her hand away.
"Not done yet. Open your mouth."
Riven blinked, more astonished than confused.
"I beg your pardon?"
"I wanna see if you have fangs. All the best aliens have fangs," Amy insisted.
“He’s a siren. Not an alien, Amy,” Jurin pinched the bridge of her nose.
“The more reason to check, Ju-chan. He could be an Area 51 specimen that escaped government custody,” Amy said, giving Jurin a pointed look before turning back to Riven. “Open up, fish man. Let me see them fangs.”
"I do not bear fangs—"
"Teeth. Now."
Riven turned toward Jurin with an expression of pure, unfiltered discomfort. "Are you going to allow this?"
Jurin crossed her arms. "You kissed me without permission yesterday. Consider this payback."
His mouth opened—whether to argue or to bare his teeth, no one could tell—but Amy took it as compliance and grabbed his jaw
"No fangs," she announced, disappointed. "But you do have weirdly subtle point teeth. I'll allow it." She finally released him, stepping back with her hands on her hips. Riven scurried away from her, hiding behind Jurin, giving her a cautious glare.
"Assessment complete. Verdict: Hot, but in an otherworldly 'I might eat you or propose marriage' kind of way."
“I desire distance from that one,” Riven muttered.
“Congratulations, Amy. You scared the fish man,” Chisa remarked.
Amy sputtered. “I was being thorough!”
“You were manhandling him,” Jurin corrected, stepping aside, but Riven followed behind her like a dog, practically using her as a human shield.
"Wait, if we throw him in a pool or get him wet, do you think he’ll turn into a siren?” Amy asked, turning to Chisa. "Hey, Chisa! Do you think we should try it out and see what happens?”
“Say less,” Chisa said with a devilish smirk.
“No one is throwing anyone in a pool,” Jurin said, firmly shutting them down.
“Boooo!” Chisa replied with a thumbs down.
“Hey, if I’m told that one of my friends is keeping a merman, I need some proof,” Amy argued.
Riven narrowed his eyes, his patience thinning. “I am a siren. Not a merman.”
Chisa chuckled, thoroughly entertained. "Relax, no need to get your scales in a twist."
“Die,” he hissed.
“You first,” she challenged.
Jurin let out a long and exasperated sigh, helping Riven sit down on the chair.
This was going to be a long day.
“What if we use a hose instead? Just a teensy little sprinkle of water and see if his skin turns to scales? For science?”
"So what you’re saying is," Amy leaned forward, instantly refocused. "You don't need water to shift? You can just... be like this normally?"
"Correct," Riven said, folding his arms. "Water merely enhances my natural abilities. It does not dictate my form."
Amy's grin turned downright predatory, turning to Jurin. “I’m getting the hose.
“Amy, no!”
“Amy, yes!”
Amy was already halfway to the back door before Jurin lunged and grabbed the back of her hoodie, yanking her to a stop.
"You are not hosing down a siren prince in my parents' kitchen."
Amy squawked, struggling against the chokehold Jurin had on her hoodie. "For science, Jurin! We need data!"
"He is wearing a bathrobe, Amy!" Jurin snapped, dragging her back toward the table.
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