Yes.

With a reverent expression, Vivia slowly, listlessly drifted closer. “If you sing,” she heard herself saying. “If you sing that song some more; I need to hear it.”

The girl's smile grew, and she laughed so musically it had almost the same effect. Yet it wasn't enough. “But of course,” she said giddily. “Come on up.” She patted the sun-dried stone she lay upon just inches above the smoothly flowing water's surface.

With hesitant movements, Vivia swam toward her, her mind seemingly fraught with a battle between curiosity and caution. When that caution came up dry of any reason to be afraid of one girl in the middle of a creek, her movements lost all hesitation, and she dragged herself all the way up the rock.

It wasn't until she was already straddling the gentle slope of the rock that she realized she never studied this girl entirely. It came as strangely little surprise when Vivia noticed her lower body was that of a fish. Such a sight should be disturbing, shockingly so, however she found herself able to pay it no more than a cursory glance.

Her wide green eyes instead took in the rest of the girl—the strands of blonde hair that shone so brightly as they fell around her shoulders to graze her round, pert breasts, and the golden gaze that made her feel as though everything was alright. Most importantly however, were her soft, smiling lips, through which that succulent sound escaped.

“You wish to listen to my song?” the mermaid asked. Vivia opened her mouth to agree, yet something in the back of her mind differed.

She sat in soaking clothes, strands of wet copper hair clinging to her face, and the only want on her mind was to hear a girl sing. The fact that she hesitated meant there were still critical thoughts in there, but the urge to just sit and listen was growing. It couldn't hurt, could it?