Sehun rolls over, only to groan at the uncomfortable stiffness that pulls at his muscles. He was currently sprawled on the floor of his cabin, trying hard to shake away the sleepiness in his eyes.

“Did you sleep on the floor yesterday night?” questions Luhan, peeking over the edge of the bed to catch a glimpse of the lump on the floor that was Sehun.

“No duh, genius,” he replied bitterly, sitting up with difficulty. He stretches his arms above his head, light cracking sounds heard as he curves his back. He sighs quietly when he’s done with the stretching, the blood flowing in his limbs once more.

“Why didn’t you push me off the bed?” Luhan looks at the floor with a confused, and guilty, expression, his eyebrows bunched in the centre of his forehead. “You should have taken the bed, it’s yours after all.”

Little did Luhan know, Sehun had, in fact, intended to do exactly what he had suggested. However, when Sehun had retired for the night, descending to the cabin with the decision to wake Luhan up, something had stopped him. He had seen Luhan peacefully sleeping on the bed, chest rising and falling gently, the blanket pulled to his chin, his toes peeking out from other end. Not only that, under the dim moonlight streaming in through the small window, the prince’s features were given an ethereal glow, and Sehun found himself mesmerized by the sight. He couldn’t bring himself to wake up the sleeping beauty, couldn’t bring himself to force the other to sleep on the floor, no matter how crazy he thought Luhan was.

“Sehun?” Luhan was still looking at him, since the mentioned hadn’t answered him yet. The fisherman coughed, turning away from the curious eyes staring at him.

“I was too tired.” Wow, what a lame excuse, Sehun thought to himself, especially when Luhan looked as if he didn’t believe him.

“Well, thank you for your kindness. It must have been uncomfortable sleeping on the cold hard floor, with only a duffel bag as a pillow…” mumbled Luhan, a light pink tinge to his cheeks.

‘Why is he blushing? It’s not like I did anything special or the like… He does look cu- No stop there!’ Despite his thoughts, Sehun felt warmth invading his cheeks, and he wanted to slap himself so hard. But he contained himself, not wanting to make a fool of himself.

“It’s no big deal,” he said instead, getting up to get some food ready.

Silence envelops them as they eat a simple breakfast of canned sardines, Sehun glancing at the prince in front of him. Luhan does have a delicate and royal atmosphere to him, the way he sits with his legs folded beneath him, the way he nibbles at his food and the way he is careful with his words (other than the first time that he had broken down; but even then, he still held the impression of status). When they were both done, Sehun turned to Luhan, a grave expression on his features.

“Now that that’s over with, it’s time for your explanation.” Although Sehun wasn’t ready to believe the tall tales that he knew Luhan would tell, he decides to just play along. For instance, who still believed in merpeople? They belonged in fairy tales, and Oh Sehun was clearly not living in one. Besides, he had another few days to pass, so might as well pass the time with a companion who could entertain him, rather than being alone.

“Well, I’ve already introduced myself, so there’s no need for that,” began Luhan, but Sehun quickly raises a hand, stopping him.

“I wouldn’t say that there’s no need… I mean, you said liaison for merpeople?” Luhan nodded an affirmative. “Merpeople don’t exist except in fairy tales and legends,” deadpans Sehun, staring hard at the man in front of him. Luhan chuckles, his eyes wrinkling at the edges and Sehun thinks that the man in front of him looks absolutely captivating like this.

“Sehun, isn’t your ‘Prize Catch’ a legend?” asks Luhan with a raise of the eyebrow. Stunned, Sehun doesn’t reply, waiting for the other to continue. “Legends are created based on the truth, for those who cannot handle the truth and would like to believe that the world is smaller than it actually is.” Luhan suddenly sounded forlorn, gazing at Sehun with a downcast expression. The fisherman looks away, heating up at the attention, although he couldn’t understand why he was reacting this way.

“Then why don’t you have a tail?” It was hard to believe that the person in front of his was a merman when he had no tail, no scales, nothing to indicate that he wasn’t in fact a human being.

“Do you know why you come here a week early?” asks Luhan, and Sehun feels a little hurt that his question was ignored. He shakes his head, and Luhan continues. “It’s because I lose my tail one week before New Year, and gain human legs. You come because I need a place to stay, since I no longer have the ability to breathe underwater,” he explains, gazing at the turquoise ocean with longing. “And I guess I need a little company, since no-one can visit me up here without being caught,” he adds with an empty laugh, and Sehun completely understands how it feels to be lonely. Or, he thought he did.

“So I’ve been meeting you all these years?” he asks incredulously, thinking back. Although he was hesitant to admit it, he found himself believing in the merman’s every word, everything clicking in place. Luhan smiles at him affectionately, reaching over to muss the taller’s hair.

“Yes, I was there the first time you ever came aboard,” he says. “And every year after that, always waiting for you.” He mutters the last part under his breath, but Sehun heard anyway. He pretended that he hadn’t heard it though, to spare the prince as well to ignore the tugging at his heartstrings that was making him feel awkward.

“So why do I lose my memory then?” He quickly changes the topic, but it was also him trying to fulfil his curiousity. Every year, that was what he had thought of the most, and he wondered if there was a reason for the memory loss.

“To protect the merpeople, and your family.” That simple statement didn’t do much in terms of explaining, so Sehun motioned for Luhan to elaborate. “Long ago, the Ohs weren’t the only ones who fished here, many of the townspeople all crowded here at the end of the year to catch the fish. And they retained their memories of us, the merpeople who made it happen. It was alright for a while, but humans have it in their nature to be guilty.” Luhan’s voice had turned bitter, his hands fisted on top of his lap. “They tried to exploit us, took in our people to be experimented on in such a way that they could have a prize catch all year round.”

Luhan pauses, letting it sink into Sehun’s brain before continuing. “But not all of the humans were as selfish. The Ohs,” Sehun’s eyes widen at the mention of his family’s name, “protected us with their lives, hiding us away here at the centre of Měirényú where we could live in peace.” Luhan finally smiled, glancing once more at the ocean below them with a loving sigh. “As a token of gratitude, we allowed your family to continue coming once a year for the fish. Of course, we took extra precautions, agreed to by your ancestors, that we would erase your memories of the week.”

To be honest, Sehun was more surprised at the kind acts of his forefathers as opposed to the fact that Luhan was a merman. But looking at the prince in front of him, he can understand their actions completely. There was a feeling of wanting to protect the delicate being in front of him, to just scoop him up in his arms.

“Have you explained all of this to me before?” whispers Sehun, feeling bad for Luhan who had to suffer this yearly. Sehun was the one who forgets every time, so there is nothing for him to hang on. But Luhan, Luhan has to bear with the feeling of being forgotten, while he himself remembers everything clearly. Although it wasn’t his fault, and not within his control, Sehun felt sorry towards the smaller.

“Yes,” Luhan replies with a wry smile. “Not every year though. When you were with your father, I pretended to be a stranded child and just played with you like a normal kid. It was only when you came alone that I had to explain every year.” Luhan rolls his eyes, punching the other lightly on the shoulder. “But I’d do it year after year, if it means I still get to meet you.” Sehun didn’t know how to respond to that, so he stayed silent.

After an uneventful day, they both went back down to the cabin, Sehun going to roll out his duffel bag once more. But before he can he feels a tug on his arm, Luhan pulling on the sleeve of his shirt. The shorter guides him to bed, pushing him down onto it.

“Sleep with me.” Sehun becomes flustered at the bold statement, and Luhan does too, when he realizes the implications of his word choice. “N- I didn’t- I just meant- Look- I just don’t want you to sleep on the floor.” He huffs, his cheeks flaming as he pouts. At the sight, Sehun can’t help but chuckle, patting the space beside him.

“Alright, alright, I understand,” he says lightly. “Let’s just go to sleep.” With quiet mumbles of goodnight, they fall asleep as the boat gently rocks back and forth.

That night, Sehun dreams. He dreams of memories that he had thought were long forgotten, but were in fact still with him, still in his heart.