It's hard to hear over the soft sounds of wind and water, but he;s not trying to sneak up on her and she's not edgy enough to tense or startle at his voice when it comes. Just opens one eye, squinting the other closed harder, and peers up at him, lifting one hand to shade her face. "Do you want to go by yourself?"
Still relaxed, in a way nothing but the sound of the ocean and the feel of sand and sun can make her. It's beautiful here, and it'll stay beautiful no matter what, until the island sinks into the sea, and then it will be a beautiful stretch of water, made a little sadder, a little more wistful for the place that it used to wash around.
Not for years. Generations. Thousands of them. Each wave nibbles at the beach, but each wave brings a little sand back, too. Give and take, that's the secret. The water isn't the enemy, even if the island isn't permanent.
But she's got no plans to stay here without Steve, hang out like she did before. Of course she's welcome, just like she's sure she'd be welcome to stay the night...in a different, maybe Mary's, room? Which is a strange thought, and one not worth worrying about right now, as she's tipping her head back, wet hair scraping in sand, catching it and weighing down strands that will slip free of it all once dry.
Of course she can. But she's not going to, even as she shifts her shoulders against the sand. "You want to get going?"
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branchandroot
(no subject)
Date: 2013-02-05 12:23 am (UTC)Still relaxed, in a way nothing but the sound of the ocean and the feel of sand and sun can make her. It's beautiful here, and it'll stay beautiful no matter what, until the island sinks into the sea, and then it will be a beautiful stretch of water, made a little sadder, a little more wistful for the place that it used to wash around.
Not for years. Generations. Thousands of them. Each wave nibbles at the beach, but each wave brings a little sand back, too. Give and take, that's the secret. The water isn't the enemy, even if the island isn't permanent.
But she's got no plans to stay here without Steve, hang out like she did before. Of course she's welcome, just like she's sure she'd be welcome to stay the night...in a different, maybe Mary's, room? Which is a strange thought, and one not worth worrying about right now, as she's tipping her head back, wet hair scraping in sand, catching it and weighing down strands that will slip free of it all once dry.
Of course she can. But she's not going to, even as she shifts her shoulders against the sand. "You want to get going?"