Gilded Bay It is the bringing of the line

the look of shock on his face is pleasing in a way that makes her feel a little sick to her stomach, but she hides it well. sometimes, she tells him with a shrug, adopting a facade of nonchalance. she wants to cry. but then he answers her question and it's a welcome change of subject. you looked like you were doing great to me, she says, trying and likely failing to sound reassuring. she clears her throat a little awkwardly. i um — i haven't been out there in a long time. not since my tribe — um. anyway, i miss swimming. i missed the ocean. sorry — i don't know why i'm telling you all this. she sucks in a breath, ears flat against her skull.