Re: In-person: Teddy/Vic
[Truly, she didn't care about swimming, but she suddenly didn't want to enter the quiet cottage. It had been all she'd wanted when this began, but now she didn't want it at all, you see. But she was loathe to admit to it, especially when she was still shards and shattered over his betrayal. Yet, still, she went when he pulled, a contradiction in movement, closer and yet distancing him, but she moved very close now, even when she took over the tugging to pull them off the sea-warped porch and onto the sand.
She'd no words as she tugged him to the edge of the water, and there was nothing to compare to this. It was mist and perpetual gray. Gray was her childhood, peppered with color by the people she loved, and she liked this gray. The mist coated her face, and her bare toes squished into the cool sand as she refused to acknowledge her fingers still twined with his.]
I don't care if it's cold. [A safe retort, and it was summer; it wasn't cold enough to kill, even with the sun hiding as it always did in Cornwall. But he wasn't wrong. This sea was tempests and no warm embrace.] What's the last thing you recall, Teddy? [She did not look at him as she asked.]