❝In which two people call up a helpline in order to find someone just as broken as they are. ❞
"Does...does it bother you that my dad's in prison for murder?"
"Well, judging by the fact that I moved away from America to get away from the memory of a...
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Isabella pulled into the parking lot with a dubious expression, eyebrows raised in something akin to disbelief as she took in the scene surrounding her. He couldn't be serious, could he? There had to be some kind of mistake because, quite frankly, they were both going to be dead, or in serious condition, by the end of the week if the participated in this activity. There was no way that he could possibly be serious. Unless, of course, he had taken a knock to the head and forgotten that they were, in fact, living in England. Hence meaning that this activity could only end in one way. Death by hypothermia.
"You can't be serious."
"Oh, but I am."
Elliot was already climbing out of the car, grinning in the sort of way that broadcasted his full knowledge of her reluctance to the situation. Which just made Isabella want to punch his pretty smile because, damn him, he looked adorable when he smiled like that. This somehow got her onto the train of thought of if he had always looked this cute. And, if so, why was she just realizing now?
She found herself putting it down to the sadness invading their last meeting, but deep down she knew the truth. And it was a simple truth, really. But a little scary to admit, even to herself. Because it would mean that she was getting to know a boy all over again. And, last time she checked, that hadn't gone down all too well. But the truth, as ever, remained to be the truth. A little too difficult to admit but a little too nagging to ignore.
And the truth was this: the more you get to know a person, the more beautiful they become in your eyes because, it's only when you get to know a person that you know the reason behind their smile. And that's when a smile becomes beautiful.
"I...I don't even have my swimming costume."
"Already got that covered."
"W...what?"
"I asked your aunt for it while you were eating breakfast."
"This is a bad idea."
"Why, you scared of a little cold water?"
"It will be freezing."
"Oh please, we're British. We'll go down to the beach in the snow if we feel like it."
"You're crazy."
"Welcome to England."
"It...it's like ten degrees."
"And yet there are hundreds of people down on the beach."
"I didn't realize British people were so crazy."
Elliot laughed, taking her hand as he led her down to the ocean.
"Not crazy, just given up on caring about the ****** weather."
"So, we're really doing this?"
"You say it like it's some horrific thing."
"We're going for a swim in the ocean in the middle of the winter. Does that not sound horrific to you?"
"Nope," he winked at her tense expression, tightening his grip on the beach towels under his arm as he basked in the stunning grey skies of England, "in fact, I'm rather looking forward to it. I said we were going to take some risks and there is nothing more risky than a cold, English ocean."
