Callan was drowning, yet his eyes were scanning the blue of the water, searching for…me?
I shot up immediately, kicking back toward him as he sunk deeper. I parted my ways up until I reached him, grabbing him by his upper body, and pulling him up with me.
Only ever visiting the gym once in my life, I had fragile limbs that failed at holding his weight. But this was someone’s life, and I needed to save it, so the adrenaline came, aiding me in successfully pulling us to the edge.
By the edge, he leaned, coughing, choking, gasping desperately for air. His hands clutched the floor as his body shook either from shock or cold. He did feel cold beneath my touch.
“It’s okay,” I murmured, my voice clinical as I rubbed his back…though I doubted that was enough to erase the trauma of almost drowning. “You’re okay.” I added nonetheless.
When he woke up today and stepped out of his house, I was sure he didn’t think of dying. And death just literally dangled itself before him. He must really be in shock.
I lifted my gaze briefly, scanning the environment, but saw no one. Just us.
As soldiers trained to notice even the slightest shift in the air, you’d think his men would have come running. They were supposed to be his shield, and I was sure their job requirements weren’t limited to just flying bullets. I didn’t even catch a shadow of one, and the person they were meant to protect almost died.
They should slash their pay by half.
Planting both hands at the edge of the pool, I hoisted myself up, water dripping around me, splattering on the floor. I stretched my hand for him to take. He lifted his gaze, eyes staring at me for a few seconds, as if scanning options, before he gently curled his hand around mine.
Basically pulling himself out–my hand was just there for support–he sat by the edge, long legs still buried in the water, heavy pants escaping his lips. But he was stabilising now.
His fingers clenched around the edge of the pool, body slightly bent over, white hair damp, dripping water on his frosty lashes.
He said he hated the body of water. Probably because of how it swallowed sounds and breath. But inside the water just now, he became something else, radiant and unreal, like a pearl drifting in the heart of the sea, untouched by its cruelty.
“Why did you jump in like that?” I sat next to him, my legs folded.
“You weren’t coming out,” he replied, staring at the water that almost took his life. “I thought…” he paused, taking in a sharp breath, as if the next word scraped like the edge of a knife. “I thought you were…dying.”
Dying.
I nearly chuckled. If only he knew.
“But you don’t know how to swim.” I pointed out. “Did you not think of that before jumping? That you could have drowned?”
He turned to me, his luminous eyes scanning every inch of my face, as though he was trying to memorise every angle, every curve, and every dent before I would fade away. “No.” He shook his head gently. “I didn’t…think. I just jumped. I didn’t remember…” He paused, brows furrowed in confusion, as if stunned by what he was unravelling. “…that I couldn’t swim.”
His confession tugged at my heart. My eyes itched as if I wanted to shed a tear.
I didn’t know him well. He barely even knew me other than my name and the school I attended. We were still strangers trying to get to know each other better. Yet he risked his life to save me.
He forgot he couldn’t swim and dove right in. The recklessness of it shocked, confused me, and made something warm unravel in my chest. I hadn’t known I could be worth that kind of instinct.
Someone almost died because he thought my life was worth saving.
The corners of my lips lifted, a smile spreading. And without thinking, unable to stop myself even when the thought eventually did settle in, I leaned closer, closer, so close I could almost see all the dainty veins that laid beneath his glass skin, Ipressed a gentle kiss to his soft lips, long enough that I felt him physically tremble, a sharp inhale dragged into his still burning lungs.
“Thank you,” I whispered against his lips, so soft even the wind couldn’t catch it.
His eyes were wide, startled as my action settled into his mind…bones. He stared at me, a kaleidoscope of emotions swimming in those fiery orbs, like I had reached into his chest and rearranged something vital.
Heat bloomed on his cheek, a pink tint that I was sure was visible only to my eyes.
“You’re…” he murmured, dazed as the heat on his face bloomed. “…welcome.”
“Jesus Christ, you’re so adorable, Snow white,” I chuckled softly, shaking my head, hand lifted as my fingers combed strands of icy hair away from his face.
I stared at him, like really stared, unable to tear my gaze away. “You’re so damn pretty,” I bumped the tip of his nose with my finger, my thumb caressing his cheek, then smoothing out his right eyebrow. “Pretty like a doll,” I cupped his cheek gently and I felt him relax into my touch. “like you’ll break if I hold you too tight.”
