Iskra
He figured he could reach her and drag her back into the water's grip, and his own, the moment she'd work to transition back onto land. It'd give her better purchase certainly, but she'd still have to transition into a clambering position that would trade forward motion for new terrain and vertical height. Her only advantage at the moment is the hair's breadth ahead of him that she keeps, one he'll gladly snatch up the second she yields it to him.
What he doesn't expect is that she'd dive. She pops under like a duck, all laughter and splashing swallowed up by the dark, glassy water, leaving only lantern light flickering on the surface for him to see. During the day, he'd have been able to track her shape no problem, but without even the moon, this pool may as well be ink.
He slows, trying to quiet his own sloshing about so he might catch a hint of her, even if just a ripple that barely breaks the surface. He extends his legs and arms all around him, frog-like as he sinks and bobs faintly in the liquid. It's all an attempt to sense the shift of water that'd tell him where she's headed, a tried and true tactic during Marco Polo. She hadn't been far after all, there'd be some indicator, but he'd have a short window for it.
Sure enough, water moves around him, and he lunges for it, though with very little purchase and momentum, his reach isn't far. This proves unproblematic because she's in range, shooting straight for him, as it turns out. "Got you!" he declares, entirely too triumphant given his hands are still scrabbling for purchase around her side, her arm, all of it colliding underwater in a mad dash to seize her before she slips away like some errant fish.
Water erupts around his attempts as he treads it to stay upright, fighting to haul her to him. "C'mre!" he demands, unable to get out more because suddenly her hands have gone elsewhere. The realization hits all at once. "MEL, don't you d—" The deep trumpet of warning is too late, and it's all he can do to quickly tuck his legs up, the position at once forcing him under the water. His hands leave her to catch at the waistband she's trying to steal, but the shorts have already been yanked off his hips and past his knees by the time he shrimps. Bubbles stream as he shouts at her beneath the water, and in retaliation, he yanks at the strap keeping her top around her shoulder and upright.
What he doesn't expect is that she'd dive. She pops under like a duck, all laughter and splashing swallowed up by the dark, glassy water, leaving only lantern light flickering on the surface for him to see. During the day, he'd have been able to track her shape no problem, but without even the moon, this pool may as well be ink.
He slows, trying to quiet his own sloshing about so he might catch a hint of her, even if just a ripple that barely breaks the surface. He extends his legs and arms all around him, frog-like as he sinks and bobs faintly in the liquid. It's all an attempt to sense the shift of water that'd tell him where she's headed, a tried and true tactic during Marco Polo. She hadn't been far after all, there'd be some indicator, but he'd have a short window for it.
Sure enough, water moves around him, and he lunges for it, though with very little purchase and momentum, his reach isn't far. This proves unproblematic because she's in range, shooting straight for him, as it turns out. "Got you!" he declares, entirely too triumphant given his hands are still scrabbling for purchase around her side, her arm, all of it colliding underwater in a mad dash to seize her before she slips away like some errant fish.
Water erupts around his attempts as he treads it to stay upright, fighting to haul her to him. "C'mre!" he demands, unable to get out more because suddenly her hands have gone elsewhere. The realization hits all at once. "MEL, don't you d—" The deep trumpet of warning is too late, and it's all he can do to quickly tuck his legs up, the position at once forcing him under the water. His hands leave her to catch at the waistband she's trying to steal, but the shorts have already been yanked off his hips and past his knees by the time he shrimps. Bubbles stream as he shouts at her beneath the water, and in retaliation, he yanks at the strap keeping her top around her shoulder and upright.
I can see the sunshine for the first time in a while
It's like I've been baptized by the warmth of your smile
It's like I've been baptized by the warmth of your smile
