submerged » l.h {FINISHED}

2.7 » speak of the devil

Luke's bare feet beat against the sand in the early morning sun. The heat, though it was barely six o'clock in the morning, brought a thick sweat to his skin, the salty droplets rolling down his temples, along the bridge of his nose and down the valley of his shoulder blades.

He wanted to get in his daily run before going to work, but this time, it had been particularly hard to get out of bed. It wasn't because he was tired, but because Kaity had slept over.

She was still sleeping soundly when he woke at the first hint of sunlight. She was lying on her stomach, the extra pillow he had on the bed squished beneath her chest, the other under her head. Her unruly brunette hair spilled over her shoulders and into her face, but she was unaffected in her slumber.

He resisted the urge to smooth the hair out of her eyes, but instead took a few minutes to study her face. He pushed away the thought of it being creepy, even though it might have been borderline. But he let it slide on the excuse that she was his girlfriend, and she'd probably do the same to him if she had the chance.

Her bare eyelashes were still long without the aid of mascara, fanning across her pale cheeks in a crescent arch. He restrained himself from reaching out and brushing the pads of his fingers against the beauty mark on the apple of her cheek or the two side-by-side on her temple.

Kaity's face was peaceful, her lips slightly parted to let her deep, slow breaths escape. He loved having this short moment to himself where he could admire her. Somehow, it made him feel closer to her, though he wished he could do it with her being awake. He told himself one day he would.

But, Luke had finally dragged himself out of bed, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss against her forehead. He had pulled on a pair of mesh athletic shorts and slipped out the sliding glass door. He moved quickly through the brush surrounding his backyard and then out onto the open beach.

He wasn't surprised to see a few surfers out on the water already. Early morning surfs were his favorite and easily rivaled midnight surf sessions. He loved to watch the new sunshine twinkle against the ocean's choppy surface.

He loved the sweet smell of saltwater and the breeze that ruffled his damp hair. Everything about surfing was his favorite, from waxing his board, to wrestling with his wet suit to get it on, down to landing the perfect wave.

His eyes searched the horizon, watching the surfers bob up and down on the surface. He wanted one of them to catch a wave, but none were forming out of the deep. He had checked the forecast last night and knew that the surf wasn't going to be good, or else he would have been out there too, Kaity by his side.

Luke returned his gaze to his bare feet, the sand kicking up behind him as he ran. He wanted to look over his shoulder to see how far he had gone, but he needed to focus on how far he could go. He wanted to be there when Kaity woke so he pushed himself just a little harder.

After a while, he could start to feel the burning ache in his calves and in his thighs, but he loved the feeling of it. He knew he could rest while he was at the pool because nothing ever happened there. Most of the people knew how to swim well enough that all he had to do was supervise and yell at a kid once in a while to not run around the pool.

His stomach dropped, hot prickles dancing over his skin, nauseatingly fast. He shouldn't think so carelessly about people around water, especially after what happened so many years ago when he was just a young boy.

After all, it was the main reason why he became a lifeguard in the first place.

He shook the terrifying memories from his head and quickened his pace. Soon enough, he was facing the large rock wall at the end of the beach, telling him to turn around and head back. By now, the sun was hanging high in the sky, seeming to turn the temperature up by ten degrees.