This, of course, is when John comes back up out of the water.
He comes up spitting and swearing, not because she'll care but because it's good to have the noise, like the pointless Ow of a stubbed toe. Pyrrha's first warning will be the jar of pain as he catches against the rocks. Somewhere, Augustine's not having a great day. John's with him. The saltwater has never been for him what it is for Annabel; the ocean's always freaked him out.
He doesn't expect to see who's standing with her.
John comes quietly, after that. He's soaked and dripping, inelegant, seaweed in his hair. But he approaches them with something uncertain and marveling in his face, longing pain in the lines of his eyes.
He'd always wanted them all to get along. Pyrrha always got it, a little bit. He'd liked that about her, and thought it was gone.
no subject
He comes up spitting and swearing, not because she'll care but because it's good to have the noise, like the pointless Ow of a stubbed toe. Pyrrha's first warning will be the jar of pain as he catches against the rocks. Somewhere, Augustine's not having a great day. John's with him. The saltwater has never been for him what it is for Annabel; the ocean's always freaked him out.
He doesn't expect to see who's standing with her.
John comes quietly, after that. He's soaked and dripping, inelegant, seaweed in his hair. But he approaches them with something uncertain and marveling in his face, longing pain in the lines of his eyes.
He'd always wanted them all to get along. Pyrrha always got it, a little bit. He'd liked that about her, and thought it was gone.
"Catching up?"