Mating Habit

The first? His name was Kyle, and when I think of him, its always an image of him standing on the shore and waving at me. There's an intensity in his eyes that I love, and it makes me bite my lip in anticipation. The thrill of it all was my favorite thing in the world. Almost.

Paul was different. He was a lover, not a fighter. With him, I learned to sing a more beautiful song, and I always see in him the most amazing sense of wonder in his eyes as he listened to my art. He would stay in the moment until the very end, fading away like a candle flame. I remember the smile that played on his lips like a fish that gets mesmerized by the lights, glazed over and ready for the end. I've always considered myself to be an artist first, and my time with Paul made me see that more than anyone else. I miss him.

Eric, though... From the moment I laid my eyes upon him, I knew that Eric was the one I had waited for. He would listen to my singing, hanging on each syllable like a fish upon a hook, burning with a need for me that matched my own desire to see him from the inside out. I needed that; to find the man that would match my intensity and hold me back from the same old ending. If he doesn't have that strength, that Will to fight back against me, I'll end up consuming him; Just like all the rest.

Eric fought back, more so than any man I've ever been with, and his Will was strong; stronger than any I had yet consumed. When he answered my song, he brought that Will with him. He showed me that he wouldn't be controlled like Paul. I rushed up to him with passion and I pressed my lips up to his, and when he pushed back against me, it was with a fire that burned away the sea within me. I knew that I'd found my mate.

Our coupling was harsh and fast, and when he fought me, I could feel the strength of his arms holding me down. It was what I'd been waiting for. Eric gave me the children I'd been wanting to know since my own birth, ensuring the continuance of my people and solidifying my place among them. He gave me 12 young ones, all but two of them maids like myself, and when they were born, his body was their nourishment, as is the way of our kind. The elder mer were proud of me for choosing such a strong mate, one who's stock would bring hardiness to all our kin, and I cherished their good opinion of me and my young.

But when I think of Eric, I always imagine him the same way; pushing back against my kiss with blood coming out his mouth, a burning in his eyes that I couldn't hope to match. A flame for the hope of my people, and a taste on my lips I will never forget.