The dark haired female was being overcome by the warmth of the figure in front of her, wrapping around her and encasing her body like a hot trap. Despite the cool, Spring breeze, Shijara was feeling flushed. He's quite the fisherman. She smirked and began taking his hands in her own, when she looked down and her eyes lazily rested on his arms, down at the tattoo. An icy cold settled almost instantaneously in her stomach. Octopus. Ty had told her, and so had another Svefra. She hadn't paid much attention at the aquarium, not after his little stunt, but a name hung heavy in her mind, and her stomach dropped. Kel. She remembered now. She had barely given it a glance, but Shijara knew it was the same image. They had both pointed it out. Why had she not noticed? Why had she not remembered? And this boat... did it belong to the arrogant son of bitch? She had thought to ask Ty if they were acquaintances earlier, and now... now she had connected the dots. She let the Svefra's hands drop, and lowered her eyes, gently pushing him back. Not because of Ty. He was amusing company, but because it would only be a matter of time before the other male poked around. She had been unable to escape Kel the past two days. She didn't want the third to be a charm. "Sorry, line broke." she cleared her throat, and tried to regain her composure, and she tried to smile reassuringly. It wasn't him, after all. She liked him. He was fun. Your friend is just the bane of my existence. She slide past him, attempting to redo the knot of her top. Her eyes were travelling everywhere, and quickly. She instantly located where they had left her sketchbook and then the way off the small boat. She was like an animal ready to run. "Um," she paused, the thoughts that had become blurry now crystal clear. Shi was becoming more sure that Jenkins would start running towards her out of nowhere. "This dolphin has to go." She shrugged, and bit her lip in regret that they couldn't continue their game. Her mood had just soured too much. She quickly kissed Ty on the cheek apologetically, and went to gather her sketchbook. When the familiar leather of the book was in her hands, she turned, slowing down. The heirloom comforted her, but she still took a step or two to the side. She could have been wrong. She was being ridiculous. Maybe she had been mistaken. Maybe it wasn't the same marking. "Ty, who's your podmate?" she motioned around her, "Who owns this?" Please be wrong. Please be... |