Swiftcurrent Creek you aren't the kind of boy who should be marrying the wrong girl

He remained partially leaning against the trunk of the tree—eyes studying her and when she saw him, perhaps he should have felt a surge of embarrassment at being caught so openly watching her… but he didn’t.

In many ways, since his return, he felt hollow.

Yet the stammer of her words—was it how he had come upon her that drew that, or from there last conversation? Wide eyes to him, still sprawled upon her back, and he found a slow grin pressing to the corners of his mouth—casual. A spark of sincerity.

“Hey,” he returned, his tone soft as he pushed from the trunk of the tree, eyes sweeping over her and beginning to close the distance between the two. Her heat gone now—his head clearer, at least when it didn’t involve everything he had learned and witnessed over the past few weeks. Idly, he wondered if she had sought comfort in another afterward—Arric, perhaps?

He couldn’t tell, yet. It would never be his place to ask. “How are you?”