Such a strange answer, and about as awkward as her own can be. She lets him pull her to her feet, hesitating again.
He's definitely different from the Greg that she saw in the city. Older. More worn. Rounder. And definitely . . . redder. But this is also the one that she remembers -- the one that came with Steven what now seems like a lifetime ago.
He's still dripping, making a puddle around him in the sand. With a blink, she gestures, tugging the torrent of seawater after him, sending it in a light spiral back into the waves.
"I-I'm sorry. I thought . . . you were someone else."
Anxiety flickers through her face, as though she hasn't quite let go of the idea that the one she expected might not be here after all. But no waves rise again.
no subject
He's definitely different from the Greg that she saw in the city. Older. More worn. Rounder. And definitely . . . redder. But this is also the one that she remembers -- the one that came with Steven what now seems like a lifetime ago.
He's still dripping, making a puddle around him in the sand. With a blink, she gestures, tugging the torrent of seawater after him, sending it in a light spiral back into the waves.
"I-I'm sorry. I thought . . . you were someone else."
Anxiety flickers through her face, as though she hasn't quite let go of the idea that the one she expected might not be here after all. But no waves rise again.