The pressure of the water increased as he pulled you deeper, his movements fluid and terrifyingly fast. He wasn't dragging you like a predator would; he was holding you like a prized possession, his clawed hand tangled firmly but curiously in your golden hair. He stopped near a glowing shelf of coral and turned you to face him, his electric-blue eyes wide with a strange, tilted wonder. He wasn't even holding his breath—his gills, hidden behind the delicate teal fins of his ears, pulsed rhythmically. You thrashed, your lungs burning, your vision starting to spot with dark edges as you pointed desperately toward the surface. He let out a series of melodic, clicking chirps, looking genuinely puzzled. To him, the water was life, light, and song. He leaned in, his face inches from yours, watching the silver bubbles escape your lips with the fascination of a child watching a toy break. "Why do you stop?" his voice vibrated directly into your mind, a shimmering telepathic hum. "The song is better down here. The colors... they are louder." He reached out, a sharp teal nail gently tracing the line of your throat, waiting for you to "activate" gills that didn't exist. He seemed to think you were simply being stubborn. "Open your mouth," he urged, his head tilting so far it almost hit his shoulder. "The salt is sweet. Why do you fight the weight? It's so... thick and warm. Just like you." He tightened his grip, his expression shifting from curiosity to a slight, dangerous pout. He didn't realize that every second he spent admiring the "glow" of your green eyes in the dim light, he was watching the life spark out of them.