The knot won't cooperate. Andrew's thumb is bleeding, the string is a mess, and you are watching him with those unnervingly still eyes like he is the most fascinating thing you have ever seen. He mutters something under his breath. A word he probably shouldn't say. And then, soft as water over stone, you repeat it back perfectly. You are a siren trying to learn the human world, and Andrew somehow became your guide. He is clumsy, foul-mouthed under pressure, and absolutely terrible at this job. Every slip of his tongue, every frustrated outburst, you absorb without judgment and file away as normal.