Author's Note
The vicissitude of the face of Sharon made me incapable of authoring her. I do not boast about finding the old substance in her character anymore. Therefore I can also not write the angst and conflict that SwaRon represented in my stories before. Albeit I was fit to write last night when I had this rather casual idea in my head. It's light to my standards.
Now then, you could call it my version of what happens when SwaRon get drenched in the waters of Goa.
Happy reading! 😳
S m a l l T a l k
She had been wearing her brown pumps when the Goan waters reached for the soles of her feet. Putting the pumps aside was in order. A veneer of wet sand had formulated around the edges of her pale feet. That accumulation of dirt was far from botheration for her. Instead she seemed to be savoring the sensation of coolness the wet sand engineered at her feet and regulated across her body. She was on the cusp of driving all her thoughts away. It had been a long day but the weather and beach were attempting to penetrate those layers of exhaustion and release some ease in her system. The weather and waters were delaying her return to the resort behind her back.
Sharon was not into theatrics. Albeit it was only natural for her to assume that her seat facing the sea and the resort from where she had momentarily escaped belonged to two separate dimensions of the world. She was glad to have escaped the latter. If she could just inhale the aroma of fresh water and grains of sand a little longer. If she could for the time being forget all about the people she knew, the feelings she had and the problems she endured. Realizing she was still thinking, after all, she sighed in utter disappointment at herself. She had dismally failed at allowing the pleasance of Goa to soothe her, again.
But then, the strangest thing happened. Her heart began to palpitate but she knew better than to pull out her inhaler. It was a rudimentary principle of having asthma. Anything weird happens on the inside, run for the inhaler. Queerness transformed to normalcy within seconds. For, she recognized the figure comfortably seated to her right. She recognized Swayum even without looking at him.
"Everyone is asking for you inside," He informed her, his tone mellow.
"And they sent you to get me?" She thought she spat but her voice was accidently genial.
"They are too busy for that." He replied simply, looking square into the waters.
"You have no business here, then." She made another effort to bark at him but failed.
Not once did she look at him. But she would have still known if he were looking at her. Not once did he look at her either. It was the changing colors of the sky that had captivated their interest and attention. From light blue to teal and eventually to a velvety hue that resembled red wine ' the skies were entertaining their sensibilities tonight.
"The sky is weird tonight." Swayum commented in a whisper.
"Over with your small talk, already!" Sharon snapped. It was so irritating of him to never give up! She finally turned her head in his direction and laid her eyes on his face. He looked unaffected by her constant attempts at insulting and driving him away. He also looked a shade darker than he was under the night sky. But limited availability of light was not going to keep Sharon from seeing perseverance in his expressions. He was not going to leave.
His nature had lots in common with that of water waves. They are normally balsamic and quiet. And then they are violent without warning. But over the years Sharon had understood the key points behind the change in his behavior. And her knowledge of him ensured that he was all things balsamic and quiet tonight. It was however the waters that extravagantly exhibited the violent-without-warning trait. A tide made a dive for Swayum and Sharon, leaving them entirely wet in its wake. Stranger things than breathing problems sans an asthma attack do happen! For Sharon, the same happened when she joined Swayum in his fit of laughter.
He was still laughing when he placed his very wet head on her very wet shoulder. There had been a clot in her chest for days and just then it plainly dissolved. She was barely done honing her skill of pushing him away when she realized she had not felt lighter in days. So, she could either slap him and run away and find multiple clots in her chest right after. Or she could stay. She chose the latter and finished it by touching her ear to his dripping lush hair.
Upside was - small talk was over indeed.
___________________________
-Epiphany.
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