Erik hadn't been surprised to find that he liked spring on the Island. He liked spring anyway, something left over from his childhood when spring meant no more freezing winters and a chance to get outside without possibly getting lost in a snowstorm. He loved his birth country, but the weather could be a killer. So even though it was a bit cool out, he'd decided to go for a run along the beach. Not only did he really need to start exercising again now that it was warm, but he really just wanted to not think for a while. If they'd been on the mainland, Erik would have taken his motorcycle out and gone for a drive to clear his mind. While technically he had his bike here with him, driving in circles around the edge of the island wasn't as tempting as an open road would have been, so he left it in his garage and slipped on his running shoes instead.
The last few weeks had been both exhausting and yet nothing out of the ordinary. He had his work, and his books, and his house, and Daryn. And Kitt. Maybe not in the way he wanted, but something was better than nothing, which is exactly what he was sure he was going to get if he was ever dumb enough to expose the true depth of his feelings for his best friend. At best, he'd probably get an awkward couple of weeks of interaction while they tried to pretend that nothing had changed. At worst... at worst, he'd lose Kitt forever. Sure, they'd still both be on the same island, but he'd probably avoid Erik like the plague, which would be easy enough seeing as he could turn invisible, and there would be no more smiles or laughter or words that made his day better.
By this time, he'd made it down the line of the beach, and realized that he was probably a third of the way through his planned route and rather than clearing his mind, he'd been stuck on the exact thoughts he was trying to run away from. He tried to get the unwanted thoughts out with an angry sigh and shake of his head, but instead of having the desired effects, he wound up tripping over an unseen rock in his path and tumbling to the sand. Erik had been taught how to fall so that he didn't injure anything vital - a necessary skill from years ago when he'd played hockey - and the muscle memory had apparently stuck with him, because just a second later he was sitting normally, albeit on the sandy beach rather than an ice rink.
He wasn't inclined to stand up, instead letting out a string of curses in Hungarian, and brought a hand to his temple to try and ward off the beginnings of a headache he was sure was about to start. As inwardly focused as he was, Erik didn't even notice that his tumble and subsequent landing had placed him about fifteen feet from the only other individual on the beach.