quinn witnesses the shift in kai’s body language, in the way he haunches in on himself, almost looking small for the first time since they met. he regrets asking almost instantly, and yet the curiosity remains burning bright inside of him. he isn’t one to pry, and he hadn’t intended to now. kai had volunteered some information, but quinn didn’t know pushing for clarification would be so daunting to the other. he’s stepping forward, feet carrying him over to the redhead before his mind can play catch up, and he closes the distance just in time for kai to sit down, feet causing ripples in the water. one hand reaches out, soothes through auburn locks, and comes to rest softly upon a freckled shoulder in a way he hopes to be comforting.
“sounds scary,” scary doesn’t even begin to cut it, but he doesn’t want to make this seem even bigger than it already is. “i’m scared of small spaces,” he’s offering up a little detail about himself, one he doesn’t freely reveal to anyone (not that he reveals anything to anyone these days) in the hopes of making kai feel less alone in his fears. “yes, of course. whiskey alright?” he’s stepping back again, almost reluctantly this time. he wants to keep contact, wants to help kai feel grounded, but if the other wants alcohol, then quinn is all too willing to oblige. he understands.
A cold shiver quakes through him when Quinn steps back, like the sudden absence of him is enough to make Kai freeze. Of course that isn’t the case, it’s just his mind playing tricks on him again. He’s not sure what’s going on inside of it, or what’s going on inside of him, but he is sure that he’s not entirely okay. He is sure that he’s not entirely going to show it. Maybe he can drown it.
“Whiskey.” He confirms, voice projecting when he raises it, and then he slides himself off the edge of the pool and into the deep end.
Water. The sound of it fills his ears, blocking him up, blocking out the world. For a few moments, there is nothing, and he is weightless. Then his feet brush the bottom and he is back in reality only slightly, curling up his legs and himself into a ball. He continues to sink, and his breath begins to burn in his lungs, muscles aching to push him back up towards the surface again. Kai doesn’t want to, so he doesn’t do it. At least not yet.
Maybe he’s so afraid of falling up tonight in particular because he has nothing to keep him down. Maybe the water above his head can do that. Everything is gone, after all. Disappeared. No note, no call --- gone. In the fucking wind. His heart sinks farther than his body ever could, and he imagines inhaling water for just a moment, and letting it help him choke everything up onto Quinn’s patio. He wonders if he’d care much should Kai do that. He wonders if he’d look at his heart there on the ground and care. Probably not. Kai doesn’t really know him, and he doesn’t really know Kai, and that matters with this.
Kai’s muscles begin working of their own volition. He stretches, launches himself up to the surface with his feet against the bottom. His arms work to propel him upwards, and when he finally breaches, he inhales sharply. Auburn hair sticks to him everywhere, over his face and his eyes and his ears, and he grips against the edge of the pool, leaning heavily. His free hand moves to push it all back, and his expression shows nothing as he sucks in breaths, stabilizing his rhythm again. He does not look for Quinn.
Kai treads water. That’s all it is now, isn’t it?