Tobin stared out at the horizon, the water of Lake Aether glassy in the quiet morning. She loved the lake in all its moods, evenduring the tempests of missions she often faced—but mornings were her favorite.
Much like the orchard of her youth, Lake Aether had become a variable basin of emotion. Her moods could meet the energy of the wind and waves, excite her, calm her, invigorate her, and cleanse her soul. She could match her feelings to the elements around her—their fury or their peace—or surrender them to the abyss, carried into the depths by the synchronous dependability of the waves.
TOBIN—8:22 a.m.
I think you’re the one avoiding questions
now.
GRIER—8:33 a.m.
No. My answer is also my explanation. I
am/was swimming. Just finished.
That explains those gorgeous shoulders. Tobin was on the brink of losing focus, her mind eager to explore that very enticing redirect.
TOBIN—8:34 a.m.
I didn’t mean to disturb your workout.
GRIER—8:36 a.m.
I was almost done anyway. I felt the text
come in so I checked my watch while resting
before my cooldown.
TOBIN—8:37 a.m.
I think I’m honored?
GRIER—8:40 a.m.
Yes. Well… to say you were the reason I’m
here this morning is an understatement.
Answering your text seemed like the most
direct step toward resolution.
Tobin hesitated, unsure why Grier was assigning her responsibility for this morning’s workout, but found comfort in knowing she was on Grier’s mind at all. Did Grier regret kissing her? Was Tobin’s expeditious retreat a final strike? Or was she just as conflicted, seeking a physical outlet for her feelings? Tobin hoped Grier approached swimming the way she approached cooking—and hedged her resolve in a straightforward response to her.
TOBIN—8:46 a.m.
I owe you an explanation.
GRIER—8:52 a.m.
You don’t owe me anything. But I’d accept an
explanation. And, judging by your first text, it
may involve food. Lucky for us, I happen to
love food.
