#afloat

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The secret lessons continued as they normally did. Neither of you spoke about the expiry date on this routine again, as if broaching the subject would make time slip away faster. 

Still, you could feel the tension in the air each time your eyes met, the inevitable drop in your gazes that would come when either of you remembered that this would have to come to an end very soon; that the distance, no matter how minute it had become between you two, would soon become impossible to breach. 

Between the two of you, Rafayel seemed to be better at hiding it. Every so often, you would catch brief flashes of reluctance and pain in those mesmerising eyes of his, only to be quickly covered up by a lighthearted joke or a teasing comment to divert your attention from his rare slip-up. 

So you followed suit, not wanting to taint what little time you had left together with talk of inevitable goodbyes; you’d much rather enjoy the present for what it was, for as long as you could grasp it with your hands.

Only, it was like the seawater gradually slipping through the crevices of your fingers.

Those same thoughts were beginning to flood your mind once more on this cloudy afternoon, which you forcibly pushed away. Instead you willed yourself to concentrate on maintaining the wide, rhythmic circular motions that your hands and feet were drawing in the water to keep your head well above the surface.

“You’re doing well,” Rafayel remarked, impressed. Treading water had come naturally to you, much to your surprise, as well as his. 

“Why is this important?” you asked, already starting to get bored since this was apparently all there was to it. It was also the reason your mind had started to wander off to unwanted places earlier. “You already taught me how to float on my back.” 

“Good question,” he replied, raising an index finger with a flourish, as if he were playing the role of a tutor in a classroom. “It’s simple, really. Imagine you’re in the middle of the ocean, and the waves are knocking you in all directions. You’ll capsize within a few seconds of trying to stay on your back, and then you’ll be gulping down water, just like last time. Which is why you’ll need to know how to tread water so you can survive in that sort of situation.” 

You nodded, but not without forgetting to point out, “But I can’t keep this up forever. How would that help if I’m really stranded somewhere?” 

“You’ll just have to stay afloat for as long as you can, until help arrives.” 

“I see.” You tried to think of when this might come in handy. If you were thrown overboard from a ship, maybe? The possibility of that happening was far too distant to take it seriously. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever be in the water if you’re not with me though.” 

It really had been more an honest observation than a compliment, but still you watched as the corners of his lips tugged upwards into a smug smirk.

“That’s right,” Rafayel agreed heartily, his eyes shining with pride. “You shouldn’t be in the water without adult supervision.” 

You huffed at him. “I am of age, Sir Rafayel. Everybody knows that.” 

“That may be true, princess,” he acknowledged, deliberately taking on a facetious tone, “but in swimmer terms, you’re just a baby fishie. No bigger than a newborn guppy.” 

You gawked at him, offended. “I’m not a— a guppy!” The word was parroted with great disdain.

He merely shrugged, feigning helplessness. “I don’t make the rules. You have to work your way up like any other.” 

“And what does that make you?” you challenged, with a subtle upward tip of your chin. 

Rafayel didn’t shy away from your question. In fact, it only seemed to amuse him, his eyes darkening slightly and gleaming with mischief — a sign that usually never boded well for you. There was no time to react though, when you felt his arm curl around your waist to pull you in towards him, like a net scooping you in. You barely avoided knocking your head against his by planting your hands on his shoulders. 

You should have gotten used to it by now, and even though his touch was entirely innocuous to support you in the water, you were hyper-aware of his fingertips on your midriff and lower back, and the way your legs had instinctively wrapped themselves around his waist. 

The proximity had your body heating up, despite the cool waters engulfing your bodies. You feared he would be able to hear your thundering heart, loud and unabashed as it was in its relentless hammering against your ribcage. 

“Since I’ve been swimming for way longer than you,” he countered, “that makes me a big fish. A big fish that eats little fishies, I might add.” 

If the goal was to sound threatening, it was an utterly miserable failure. You could not imagine Rafayel ever posing any sort of danger to you, having already saved your life once. 

You felt yourself relax slightly, tense shoulders dropping as you ironed your face into a cool facade. 

“But you’re teaching this little fishie to swim,” you parried. “Soon I’ll be able to swim faster and away from you.” 

He flashed a grin, showing you his pearly teeth.