She couldn’t tell whether the salt was on his hand or her lips, but she kissed him anyway,

She couldn’t tell whether the salt was on his hand or her lips, but she kissed him anyway, her mouth lingering against the back of his palm while her eyes drifted ever higher, to meet him. She was exhausted, and cold, and barely conscious, but she was his. 

They’d driven out before it was light, and she was too groggy to notice anything but the street lamps drifting lazily by the window. She dozed while they travelled, and the only thing she really felt was his hand against the side of her face. Reassuring, and constant. It made her smile. 

The sun was cresting the horizon when they stopped, her view jewelled by the light on the water, too much to take in, the glare almost painful. She shaded her eyes, and they got out. He took her hand, and they headed across the beach, sand between their toes. 

“Why are we here?” Her voice was halfway between sleepy and petulant, confusion featuring heavily. 

“A surprise.” He murmured, squeezing her hand as their toes reached the edge of the tide, the waves lapping at their feet. 

His hands were at her clothes, stripping her with a care that she hadn’t seen before in him, a far reach from the eager pulling and passionate stripping that she was used to. This was something considered, deliberate, and she just stood there letting it happen. There was no one around, not at this time of day, not this far out. 

Regardless, she felt exposed, bared to the ocean like that. As each piece of clothing came off, he threw them onto the shore, more detritus to go along with the driftwood and shells, but safe and dry, for the moment. But her? She was naked, with wet feet, and soon to be wet ankles, as the tide slowly started to rise. 

He started to wade out into the water, taking her hand again. His trousers darkened where the water touched, dropping the shade a few notches. It seemed like a precursor, a warning she should heed, but she ignored it. Her groggy mind was shocked into function as the cold gripped her legs, then her waist, a gasp forced from her lips. He smiled as she shivered. 

“Calm.” The single word was uttered, and for a moment the shivering stopped, the force of it enough to allay the physical reaction, even if only temporarily. Her mind was what he had been talking to, though, and that was where the effect was strongest. She emptied it, casting the thoughts into the sea along with the rest. She calmed. 

They were waist deep now. He stood there in a shirt, and she stood there in nothing. He let go of her hand, and his moved up behind her back, steadying her. Reassuring her. Preparing her.

“Take a breath.” His voice was softer than she was used to, but she did as he asked. His free hand took hers, brought it up to her face, and had her hold her nose. He smiled, but there was something else in that expression. 

And then he put her under. The salt stung her eyes, but she kept them open, staring up at him, seeing his figure dance and warp through the lens of the sea. She didn’t struggle, and for a few seconds, she didn’t even have to fight the urge. Slowly, her lungs started to insist on more air, more and more pertinently, until they started to burn.

He watched her, watched her face slip from serenity to urgency, and as she started to struggle he started to count, and as he reached three he brought her up, surging out of the water, all splutters and blinking, before bringing her to him, her mouth against his. His air in her lungs. Him giving her the life she so desperately sought. 

The kiss lingered, went from hard to soft, and then he pulled away. She was still blinking. 

“And there we go.” He murmured, smiling again. Whatever was there before was gone. 

Her mind was enough in shock that she had no idea how hard she smiled back.