Perhaps utterly ignoring it had been the wrong way to go. He didn’t dare look back at her, but from the corner of his eye he felt she had reacted badly, and he nearly grimaced at himself for saying anything, for having kissed her at all.
“Forgive me, I -” he got out, abashed, just as she spoke again. “Oh,” Evander said uncertainly, finally regaining enough courage to glance at her and finding she was already staring back. She was not offended; he doubted she was talking about the weather there.
“Oh. Then I am less sorry for it,” he amended, trying to stop his mouth quirking into too much of a smile. He breathed out a little instead, and brushed some water off his upper arm; if he was exasperated now, it was entirely at himself. He was too old for this sort of thing, and even so, woefully underprepared, whilst Caroline... she had an inexplicable confidence in everything. As though she had been courting a hundred times before, as though nothing in the world could catch her unawares. Youth, probably. Or something they taught across the Atlantic.
And as usual she needed reassurance in nothing, save perhaps in him. Though his instinct had been to shut down, close off mere moments after showing anything - Merlin knew why that felt like the natural thing to do - he did not want her to find offence nonetheless in presuming he regretted it. To that end, he turned back towards her, reaching for her hand again and squeezing it tightly: this they had done often enough that it felt natural, a gesture familiar and understood.
It was astonishing how pretty she looked even in dishevelment, beads of water still hanging to her clothes, some incensed colour lingering in her cheeks. He was not usually at such liberty to look so long - but that was no doubt what had led to the urge to kiss her in the first place. Evander turned over his words for a moment, supposing it might be best to put it plainly, to spare him the misery of overthinking. “But you will tell me if you... wish the exercise to be repeated?”
Surely she knew by now that spontaneity was not his strongest suit.
“Forgive me, I -” he got out, abashed, just as she spoke again. “Oh,” Evander said uncertainly, finally regaining enough courage to glance at her and finding she was already staring back. She was not offended; he doubted she was talking about the weather there.
“Oh. Then I am less sorry for it,” he amended, trying to stop his mouth quirking into too much of a smile. He breathed out a little instead, and brushed some water off his upper arm; if he was exasperated now, it was entirely at himself. He was too old for this sort of thing, and even so, woefully underprepared, whilst Caroline... she had an inexplicable confidence in everything. As though she had been courting a hundred times before, as though nothing in the world could catch her unawares. Youth, probably. Or something they taught across the Atlantic.
And as usual she needed reassurance in nothing, save perhaps in him. Though his instinct had been to shut down, close off mere moments after showing anything - Merlin knew why that felt like the natural thing to do - he did not want her to find offence nonetheless in presuming he regretted it. To that end, he turned back towards her, reaching for her hand again and squeezing it tightly: this they had done often enough that it felt natural, a gesture familiar and understood.
It was astonishing how pretty she looked even in dishevelment, beads of water still hanging to her clothes, some incensed colour lingering in her cheeks. He was not usually at such liberty to look so long - but that was no doubt what had led to the urge to kiss her in the first place. Evander turned over his words for a moment, supposing it might be best to put it plainly, to spare him the misery of overthinking. “But you will tell me if you... wish the exercise to be repeated?”
Surely she knew by now that spontaneity was not his strongest suit.
