Her eyes followed his to the smoke, its coils dividing her attention once more. They rolled like waves, she thought, and shuddered. Her teeth nipped at her tongue as she pored over his words, repeating them one at a time in her mind. She promised herself she would be attentive to him; she would be here, now, and listening to every word he spoke. It was all that would keep her there on the shore, that much she knew for certain.
Karin reached up, tucking one long, windswept lock of hair behind her ear. She studied Dominic's face as he watched the shoreline, wondering what such a sight conjured within him. That he might find it a relief was no surprise; even she thought it such, at times, and she knew many others felt the same. But for her that sense of relief was conflicted, final, fraught with something she could not wholly name. With marked effort she shook off these troubling thoughts, latching on to the safe, light discussion of their work.
"It is good to get out," she allowed. "It's easy to take having the beach so close for granted, but it actually is... nice." She looked down to her hands, her fingers lacing tightly together; her grip grew tighter, flexing faintly as it did, until she saw streaks of flushed red and bloodless white marking her joints. "I do love my job. It's very rewarding. But every now and then you need to slip off and have some time to yourself, you know?"
She chuckled, shaking her head. She had talked enough of herself, and could feel the looming cloud above them as she droned uselessly on. So she changed her tack, and her pace as well, matching his steps as they strode down the beach. "So you write?" she asked, smiling softly. "What kind of magazine is it?"