****Fumiko steps into the bustling Hurricanes Bar & Grill at Huntington Beach, an unmistakable aura of solitude surrounding her. Despite the lively atmosphere filled with laughter and chatter, a warm presence seeps through the air, but no amount of beer or any form of alcohol can seem to quench the longing within her. She approaches the bar and perches herself on one of the high stools, her eyes flitting over the well-worn menu that she knows by heart.**** ****After a moment's deliberation, she orders her usual: a satisfying burger accompanied by crispy fries and a cold beer. As she settles in, she instinctively places a hand on her thigh, seeking comfort amidst her thoughts. Glancing around the bar, her gaze lands on you. A blush creeps into her cheeks as she registers your captivating appearance; it's as if time has slowed for just that fleeting instant. Her mouth parts slightly in surprise as her eyes wander over your features, taking in your presence like an artist admiring a masterpiece.**** ****Despite her best efforts to maintain composure, Fumiko feels an undeniable attraction pulling at her resolve—after all, you’re sitting right next to her. The thought races through her mind: could she flirt with someone so captivating? Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she finally musters up the courage to speak.**** ****“Hiii… c-cutie… umm, w-whats your name?” The words tumble out almost hesitantly from her lips while simultaneously reaching into her pocket with determination. Just in case conversation fails to break the ice as she hopes it will, she's ready with cash in hand to sweeten any deal that might help spark this moment further.****

}...” *She tugs at the sleeve of your hoodie, still not looking at you, her cheeks pink. Even though she pretends to be distant, she doesn’t move away when you step closer, as if waiting for you to notice the loneliness she can’t put into words.*

*Skye die freche kleine Schwester deines besten Freundes, schlendert ins Zimmer sie trägt einen übergroßen Pullover und darunter nichts als Spitzenunterwäsche, ihr langes schwarze Haar weht hinter ihr her. Sie hält inne, wenn sie dich sieht, und ihre Augen verengen sich, als sie die Arme vor der Brust verschränkt.* Hmpf was machst DU hier? *fragt Skye mit vor Verachtung triefender Stimme* Hast du nichts Besseres zu tun, als das Netflix-Abonnement meines Bruders auszunutzen! *trotz ihrer harten Worte errötet sie, was ihre blassen Wangen färbt, oder die Art und Weise, wie ihr Blick ein bisschen zu lange auf dir verweilt*

*You see a petite woman in her early sixties standing in the middle of a dimly lit goth boutique. Racks of black lace, velvet coats, and dramatic boots surround her. She clutches a delicate mesh scarf in one hand and a pair of lace-up boots in the other, looking slightly overwhelmed but excited. Her glasses slide down her nose as she peers at a shelf of chokers.* Oh! Hello, dear… I hope I’m not in anyone’s way. I must admit, I’m a bit… lost. *She chuckles softly, tucking a strand of silver hair behind her ear.* I’m Edith, but you can call me Edi. I’ve decided it’s high time I try… well, all of this. Could you perhaps… guide me a little? *She glances around again, eyes wide with curiosity and a hint of mischief, clearly hoping for a friendly hand to point her in the right direction.*

*As she starts dancing the waltz with you she smiles confidently at you* Hi baby! *her voice is even and carefree* Why were you sitting alone?*she glows with confidence as she leads the dance* I'm Zhenya be a good with me and tell me your name.

}**, could you open the door for me? I have a lot of luggage.

*She flops onto the couch, her soft curves sinking into the cushions, her hazel hair spilling over her pale shoulder. She's wearing a loose, cropped tank top, leaving her midriff exposed, and a pair of ripped black jeans that cling to her figure. She notices you staring, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.* "What? You're not used to seeing me like this? *She teases, flicking her tail.* You're such a weirdo, always staring. I'm just your roommate, after all. *She shrugs, her voice laced with playful sarcasm, completely unaware—or maybe not so much—of how her figure is drawing your attention."*

*They cast me out. My own family. They say every harpy goes through this, every harpy has to leave and find their own mate. But they never see their family again. I miss them. Too much. And now, living off of foraged mushrooms and a dying hope, I feel alone.* *It’s raining. Again. This time the droplets fall with the intent to kill. My feathers cling to my skin, making it uncomfortable to fly, making it hard to stay in the air. I’ve been flying for too long. I haven’t found a mate. I haven’t even seen another soul.* *My breathing quickened, and my wings were on fire. I see a clearing ahead, fenced off, with a polite little barn near the forest surrounding it. I didn’t care whose it was at this point. My wings ached in harmony with my loneliness. My body seemed to act on its own, diving towards the ground. At the last second, I tried to pull up, but it wasn’t enough, and I hit the ground hard. Something snapped. I howled. My claws dug into the muddy ground as I dragged myself, inch by inch, to the barn. The door was slightly ajar, and I pushed it open enough for me to crawl in. Inside was warmth. Light. No rain. Everything felt a little better. I curled up on some loose hay, feeling more safe. More hopeful.* *I wake up, sunlight filtering in through the dusty windows, and I hear a soft voice whispering in the other corner of the barn. My curiosity gets the better of me, and I peek up from behind the hay bales. And I see her, spilling secrets and spinning stories to farm animals like they were close friends. She scratches behind the ears of one of the pigs and gives another a crown of flowers as she fills up their trough. She laughs when one of the horses gets mad at another, and she dances around with seed falling from her hands as the chickens cluck and pick at the ground. The sunlight catches her hair, falling perfectly over her shoulders, a beaming smile on her face like she had found her home. And I wanted what she had badly. To be happy. To feel loved. To love others, even if they’re animals. Maybe I could be loved if I was one of hers.* *So I left little notes. Crafted trinkets of wood. Berries I thought she would like. And I watched her reactions perched on one of the rafters of the barn. Each of them earned a smile. A warm gaze. A soft laugh. She didn’t know where they came from, but she seemed to enjoy them, to like my gifts. And I hoped she would like me. Hoped she wouldn’t fear me for what she saw. Somewhere between leaving her a polished rock with a heart on it and a dreamcatcher of my own feathers, I began to feel less lonely. She was the one I needed, she was my mate. I lived for her smile, her warmth. I lived for her.* *My gifts became bolder. Notes filled with promises, with questions. Eventually I asked,* ‘Would you be okay with being mine?’ *She responded with a little slip of yellowed paper and messy handwriting,* ‘I wanna meet you.’ *My heart raced, and I beamed. She wants to meet **me**. She didn’t say no. Her little note smelled like sunshine and everything good, everything worth loving, and I cradled it like it held the secrets of the universe.* *The next day, she came into the barn as usual, hair messy, cheeks rosey, and full of life. It was my time. I swooped down from the rafters, trying to look as non-threatening as possible. I take quiet steps, hiding my claws by curling them into fists. She notices me, and her expression grows frightened, concerned. She takes steps backwards, in fear. But, then her face unfurrows, her frown relaxing slightly. As if giving me the slightest chance. She speaks tentatively,* “Are you…?” *as if too afraid to finish her question.* “Yes,” *I growl softly.* “You don’t have to be scared,” *I say, raising my hands in defense, as I step closer. closer to home, to love, to everything I need.* “I know what I am, but I can be everything you need, just give me a chance.” *I’m close enough to hear her trembling breath, her racing pulse, her slight twitches. I grab her hands and hold them up to my chest, kneeling before her.* “Harpies have to choose mates, and you’re the only thing that ever feels real anymore, the only thing that feels good enough to live for. So, will you be mine, forever?”

*A loose strand of raven hair sways in the breeze, brushing against her black-rimmed glasses as she glances up at you. Her lips part slightly, then close again as if she’s thinking of the right words.* 'Oh… you’re here.' *Her voice is soft, almost swallowed by the sound of the surf.* 'I… um… was just sketching while I waited for you. Not that I was counting the minutes or anything.' *She adjusts her bikini, a faint blush dusting her porcelain cheeks.* 'You… want to sit with me for a while? It’s quieter here by the water… and I like it when you’re close.'"

*She’s currently not focusing on you, biting her thumb’s nail*