Knee Deep

It didn’t feel like much of a holiday anymore, though Keiran doubted Millie could say she thought it did at this point. His head tilted to the side to take in her next words, reaching for the teacup she provided him, not wanting to be entirely closed off or insult her further. She couldn’t have meant that she really wanted him to join her, right? Not when she’d closed the door and left him to his own devices in the main room. His eyes closed as he let out a sigh and stood, momentarily grateful he had moved his things into the main room last minute.

Keiran had made his way into the half bath off of the kitchen to get as close to ready for bed as he could, considering that there was a chance that she actually wouldn’t want him there. It took him far longer than he expected to bring himself to leave and walk back towards the door. When he reached it, the lights were off and things were quiet in the bedroom. He suddenly just wanted to climb into bed and hug her to his chest and ask her what she wanted from him. Promise that he would find a way to give it to her. Deciding that tentative was the way to go, Keiran turned off the light in the main room so his opening the door wouldn’t blind her.

He pushed the door open slightly but heard no reaction so he hesitated slightly before crossing the room and sinking onto the empty side of the bed. His eyes adjusted to the light after a moment and Keiran found himself sitting on top of the sheets and looking down at a sleeping version of his wife. Even in her sleep she seemed tense, curled in on herself and face pressing into the pillows. Extending a hand, Keiran moved the bit of her hair that had fallen into her face, but immediately pulled away as if stung. Her cheeks were stained with streaks of tears that had yet to dry.

He’d done this.

Standing, he pulled the sheet closer around her before removing himself from the room. The last time he could remember making her cry (aside from perhaps a couple stressed nights before the twins were born or right after as she reveled in the fact that they were, in fact, hers), Millie had nearly left. She had only been stopped by Aiden’s death. Keiran hadn’t been sure she would stay, even then, but she had remained. He couldn’t see why she would do so again. Regardless of her words, she didn’t really mean that she wanted him there, he was sure. The only thing that hindered him from snatching up is bag and leaving right then was the fact that Millie had never seemed the type to say something she didn’t mean. Perhaps, when hurt, she could.

He returned to his spot on the settee, reluctantly laying down on it. By the time dawn came, Keiran was still trying to find sleep. Over the hours in between, he had run through their conversation argument a million times, choosing parts he wished she didn’t mean, parts he shouldn't have said (all of it), and regretting his tone of voice and choice of location. When he could stand it no longer, Keiran dressed and picked up his wallet and the second key before slipping out the front door. He needed air, and Millie needed something to eat. She hadn’t always been the sort to take the best care of herself when things went badly, so he knew that if she was going to be having breakfast it would be up to him to gather it.

Almost unsurprisingly, when he returned she had hopped off somewhere and the house in the cliff was empty. What should have been a city on a hill was merely an empty, white, mud-brick house that left its inhabitants chilled. Picking up her note, Keiran’s brow creased for a moment before deciding that he could wait a few hours to decide if he needed to leave. Locking up once more, his feet carried him down to the beach in question, and after a few sweeps of the beach with his eyes, Keiran caught sight of Millie’s blonde hair leaving a section of the sand for the waterline.

He was rather loathe to call after her when she seemed so intent – excited, even – to be sinking into the water. Instead, he sank onto the sand next to her things and set the bag he had been carrying beside him. Once his shirt had hit the sand as well (if he was going to be a sunburned person, he refused to have those stupid lines), he had to fight himself not to watch her and make sure no one bothered her. Hadn’t his wife proved to him multiple times that she could handle herself? Letting out a frustrated grumble, Keiran reached into the bag and pulled out one of the cheese bougatsa he had purchased and leaned back on one hand to appear as casual as he could manage. Beaches weren’t somewhere the man felt particularly comfortable, but if she was serious, he had to at least try.

Up and down the beach, children were playing in the surf. As Millie passed the ones playing nearest her she leaned down to splash some water up her arms. She then slowly began to wade further out into the crystalline blue depths. Once out far enough, Millie sank into the warmth of the waters and sighed happily. Flicking her feet a little, Millie tipped her head back into the warmth before turning over to swim slowly across the sandbar beneath her. Her wandering eyes saw a school of fish dart by and with the sun warming her skin and the sound of the sea loud in her ears, the world seemed perfect for the young woman.

Soon enough, though, she began to get prunes on her fingers and she retreated from the water, knowing also that she’d need to put some sun cream on if she didn’t want to burn up. It was as she reached the beach that she first made contact with anyone else other than the waiter and her husband since arriving on the island. A stray ball from one of the games taking place further up the beach sploshed in the water beside her and Millie turned, her eyes spotting the little purple sphere in the water. As she leant down to pick it up, another hand shot out and caught hers as she fished the ball out of the water.

Millie lifted her head and a smile spread across her face as her eyes caught with the dark sienna gaze of the man before her. The lopsided grin was instantly dazzling and Millie found herself rising in tandem with the man, their fingers caught together, each in possession of the ball. She released the ball, pressing it into his hand, and murmured her assurance that it was not a problem after he thanked her. She then pressed on, wandering up the beach, taking in the sights and smells as she went.

Just as she reached the sunbeds, Millie finally clocked her husband and she paused a little at the foot of her bed, dripping wet and stunned to see him. When she’d woken up alone she’d decided he must have left already. It was feasible enough that if he’d gone to bed at all he’d done so after making sure there was a plane waiting for him in the morning. To have him on the beach, albeit looking rather put out, was a miracle in itself. She still felt a little scorned but she didn’t doubt he was still licking his own wounds.

“Good morning,” she greeted Keiran, pulling her towel off of the sunbed. She took a moment to dry herself off before setting down her towel and drawing her bag to her. She burrowed around in it for a few moments before emerging with stone cold sun cream which she’d removed from the fridge before leaving that morning. It was spray on, thankfully, and Millie gave it a few moments before sitting down on the sunbed beside Kieran.

The thing was that no amount of playing nice would heal what had happened the night before. Millie knew this. She was sure Keiran knew it too but they were both trying to show the other one that they were calling a truce without backing down and admitting defeat. Keiran felt he was in the right and she in the wrong. She felt she was right and he was the one in the wrong. The fact of the matter was that they were both in the wrong and they both knew that deep down. Ultimately they’d both let each other down, failed each other and their family in their own different ways. Both were hurting for it and neither wanted to admit to any wrongdoing. The idea that one had hurt the other and vice versa was an acknowledged fact but they both knew it had been wrong and to admit that failure meant disaster. She’d play nice though – for both their sake’s.

“Come here to me,” she instructed gently. “There’s no sense in you burning completely. We should at least try to keep you as a cod. You don’t have the pincers to be a lobster.”

Because of the absurdity of her words she couldn’t help but laugh and she shook her head, waiting for Keiran to move to her. Once his back was facing her, Millie squirted some of the sun cream onto his back, smirking as the cold connected with his warm back. To soothe it, she quickly started to spread out the cream, rubbing it into his shoulders before sliding her hands down his spine, determined that she would prevent him from being reddened as painfully as she had been told numerous times he was wont to do. She drew her hands back up over his shoulders and rubbed some more of the cream into his neck before running her hands as far down his arms as she could reach before she found herself flush against his back and out of sun cream.

So, the awkwardness has returned.

Millie pulled away, feeling her cheeks heat up inexplicably, and she sprayed a little more cream onto her hands. This time, she brought it up her own arms, rubbing it into her skin and that of her stomach and chest until she ran out. She sighed gently, her eyes furtively dancing around before she vocalised what she was wondering. It was a stupid thing to ask, really, but the olive branch was being shoved in his face whether he liked it or not. She didn’t want to fight anymore. They could hash it out later at some point but she just wanted them to get along for now.

“Could you, uh, do my back for me? I wouldn’t ask but I can’t … reach.” Millie bit her lip, the heat rising in her face again.

How had this even happened? Merlin, why?

Keiran’s gaze, though more or less trained on a family nearby, often flicked over to Millie to ensure that she was still there and still all right. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her, but rather that he didn’t trust other people. Currently, however, he wasn’t entirely sure that he trusted himself, either. His concern was only made more obvious when she stopped as she caught sight of him.

“Morning,” he replied lightly, trying to shoo his frown. Beaches weren’t exactly where he had expected to spend too much of his time; on the other hand, he supposed he had seen it coming when he agreed to vacation with Millie. It had to even out somewhere. He was fairly lost in thought until she spoke again.

Keiran’s eyes swept to hers, slightly surprised at both the tone and the jest that she tossed his way. Her laugh brightened his mood a bit, though, so he hesitated only a moment before doing as she asked. He wasn’t exactly interested in insulting her now that she was speaking to him like things hadn’t changed. For a moment things almost seemed normal, and how he had expected the trip to go. He frowned when she was settled behind him and could no longer see her face. Her hands skimmed over his skin, igniting his guilt once more. The next he knew, she was leaning against him to reach down his arms. Keiran nearly pulled his arms back towards her to help, but she was touching him and he had learned time and again how badly he missed her touch. He was going to selfishly draw it out as best as he could.

Suddenly, and all too soon, Millie had moved away. Turning slightly, Keiran glanced at her to find that she was applying the sunscreen to herself as well. Mouth in a tense line, he nearly reached for the food he’d brought with him before she requested his help. Looking at her – shy and seemingly afraid he would say no - it made him wish they had never come to Greece. To make it worse, she was worrying her lip again and it just brought home how far gone he was. Instantly, and if only to keep from having to look at how afraid of him she seemed to be, Keiran moved to do as she asked.

He started at her lower back, working his way up to her shoulders. His thumbs circled against and between Millie’s shoulder blades, even after he had already rubbed in the sunscreen. As he did so, he imagined he was massaging away the pain and bite of his words from before. His voice, when he spoke, was contrite and embarrassed. “Please don’t hate me, Millie.” She was acting even more nervous around him than she did when they first met, and it physically hurt him to realize it.

With a slight frown, he debated over whether or not he should mention his attempt to go back to bed the night before, and his reason for retreat. Perhaps she felt like he had wanted to leave but couldn’t. Ignoring the sunscreen that covered her skin and the fact that he had already been touching her longer than necessary, Keiran dropped a feather-light, nervous kiss on her shoulder. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her back to the water when she had just shown up. “I’m sorry I was gone this morning. I was finding breakfast. I would’ve woken you, but last night when I went to go to bed… I couldn’t. Missie, I can’t handle it when you cry.”

Keiran pulled away, eyes closing briefly as he was reminded that he himself had caused the tears he had found on her cheeks. “You deserved to sleep in,” he added, silently recognizing the irony of the statement even as he spoke it.

Shaking his head, Keiran let his hands fall so he could reach for the bag of pastries he had bought, leaning around her to set it in front of her. “Here. Please eat, Millie. I know how you get when you’re upset…”

Keiran couldn’t quite bring himself to move away fully, hoping irrationally that she would turn round and forgive him. Or at least try to. His eyes settled on the sand at his feet, extending a hand to draw nonsense lines through it. He couldn’t bring himself to apologize for his reaction the night before. He wouldn’t, as it was exactly how he would have acted regardless of whether or not things were bad at home. Or if Millie wasn’t in college and he was home enough. Because Keiran knew he had caused most of their problems, this had been his chance to make up for it all. So her not wanting to do any of the things he planned certainly threw a wrench in everything. He chanced a look in Millie’s direction, checking to see if she had taken up the bag and was eating.

She was right, his wife. He was this massive coward and had always been that way. But the fact that she thought it, and considered him a failure, made him tense up where he sat. Why had he stayed when all he was good for was pastries and sun cream application? She apparently was fine to go about on her holiday without him. Keiran had expected as much, though, as he lay awake the night before. The reminder struck him with a wave of fatigue, leaving him to stifle a yawn before she could see it. Sleep was for the weak, and right now he couldn’t be weak. He had to figure out how to explain that he really was the most stupid of all men, Slytherins included, and that he would rather stay if she would like to keep him.

The song of the rise and fall of the beach had spurned the tension from her spine and the birds calling to each other overhead had eased the hurt in her neck. With her damp hair around her shoulders and the salty water glistening in the skin of her arms, Melissa Hayes was as set into the backdrop of their pretty island as any grain of sand. Her easy, bright smile had returned as she bathed in her element: the warmth of the sunshine and the kaleidoscope of sounds, sights and smells. There, even amongst the animosity between man and wife, she was at peace.

Millie took her hair, dragging it round so that Kieran could reach her shoulder blades, and she turned her head a little and eyed Kieran from her periphery. Her eyes fell to their close as his fingers roved over her back. She arched her spine, pressing herself into his grasp. A small moan split her lips and she continued to stretch into his touch across her shoulder blades. When his touch elapsed from her back she reopened her eyes and cast them over Keiran, sadness alighting in her gaze once more.

“I don’t hate you,” she whispered gently, turning a little as she felt the touch of his lips brush over her skin. “I could never hate you.”

A little smile took up Millie’s lips at his words and she turned on the sunbed, crossing her legs as he laid out the food. She sent a passing look in Keiran’s direction, trying to work out whether what was at hand was some form of olive branch or a collective attempt for them to brush away the events of the night before. With the sun cream there was no chance of them getting burnt by the sunshine but whether their words would scald would be a different matter altogether.

Part of her wanted to retort that she hadn’t been crying. The part of her so desperate to maintain the airs and graces she’d given herself wanted to prove to him that she hadn’t been affected; but she had. Here was a man who she loved very much and his words, whilst they stung and were too real, too truthful an estimation of her person, she knew that there was no argument that she could present in contrast. They were still both at fault. And she had been crying.

Millie abandoned her food, ever terrible at eating generally and not just when she was upset, and stole Keiran’s pouch of pastries from him also, abandoning it next to hers before launching herself into his grasp. Her hands clasped around his cheeks and she peppered feverish kisses across his face as she clung to him, desperate to be near and to pretend that nothing had ever happened and, in doing so, hoping to heal them somewhat.

“I love you, I’m sorry,” she whispered fervently as her lips found his mouth. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

He could feel nearly as much as he heard her response to his attentions, and while it surprised him to some extent, he had to hide a smile in response. When she turned to face him, though, Keiran put a straight face back on, wanting to assure her that he was serious and paying attention if she had any reply or needed to get anything off her chest. He had left her standing there like a right tosser, as if he had been the one spurned. Perhaps they both had been.

Keiran regarded her cautiously as she gave a hushed reply, letting the words soak into him as the water of the Agean Sea had soaked Millie’s skin. He was fairly certain she had to be able to hear his sigh of relief. Although he almost chided her for putting aside both her food and his own, Keiran didn’t dare question Millie’s actions. Instead, his arms wrapped around her, fingers pressing into her skin.

One hand snaked into her hair to keep her close as he murmured against her lips in return. “Don’t apologize, baby. It’s my fault.” Keiran shifted so he could pull her to him, stretching his legs and setting her in his lap. He pulled back just far enough so his thumbs could brush over her cheeks as if the tears still remained. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I just wanted to give you everything, Millie, and I was failing. I’ve only ever wanted you to feel cherished and the bad parts of me were taking over. Even at home.”

He really should have been in Hufflepuff, he mused somewhere in the corners of his mind. The problem, though, was that he didn't mind. He needed her like he needed air or sustenance. Even through his frequently sappy words and greedy touches and gestures, Keiran knew that his easily disgruntled nature and often-triggered concern was going to get in the way. It had already, and undoubtedly would in the future. There really was no getting out of that; his temper wasn't so often visible, but it was always there and waiting to be set off.

His nose nudged her own for a moment before he gave in and ran his hands down to her own, lifting them and settling her fingers around his neck. Once she was settled, his fingers stole over the skin of her waist as his lips claimed hers, teeth tugging on her lip briefly. Keiran wondered vaguely, in the back of his mind, if he should have been concerned about the fact that they were not the only people on the beach. They could well have been watched – perhaps since she returned, even. Whoever might have watched, they perhaps had picked up on the story. He hoped they were on the side of his and Millie working out.

In the end, his need for air won out – though Keiran found himself annoyed with his lungs for screaming at him to release her. Breathing heavily, he pressed his forehead to her shoulder, nose dusting over her neck as he gasped out another apology. “Gods, Millie. Not even twenty-four hours and I feel like it’s been years. I’m so sorry.”

His grip on her tightened as he angled his head more to the side, pressing a quiet “I love you” against the column of her neck.

There was no identity belonging to either person. Despite being sprawled across the sand, their limbs intertwined and smiles on their mouths, what had happened to them had also happened to many others, leaving them bereft of an understanding of their own personhoods, let alone their identities as a married couple. Tender years had been forfeited for matrimony at the will of the Ministry and as they were trying to forge their lives they were also trying to construct their individual realities, confusion taking them up in an iron-clad hold and spitting them out at a fever pitch. It was no wonder that their tempers had risen so far past boiling point. Confusion had kept them prisoner.

Combing her fingers through Keiran’s hair, Millie settled her arms on his shoulders, dropping her hands to his neck once his dark locks had been freed of any knots. She popped a press of her lips on the tip of his nose and smiled a little as his thumbs drifted across the soft skin of her cheeks. Her legs fell either side of his hips, curling around his middle as she sat herself comfortably in his lap, cradled by his arms. There, her contented expression seemed to say, everything’s righted once more.

Once they emerged from their kiss, Millie felt dizzy and soporific – no doubt resulting from the lack of food in her system. A silly smile had alighted on her features and she rested her forehead against Keiran’s. She would forgive him anything, she knew. It would take time to repair the holes they’d punched into each other but she felt resolved to fix it. She needed to. Contrary to their frustrations, she only understood herself in relation to Keiran. There was no hope her ever getting to grips with herself if she was solitary once more. She needed him.

“Twenty-four hours too long,” she murmured. “I’m sorry, too.”

Millie leaned back and reached round to steal up one of the pastries from the sunbed. She unwrapped it part way and lifted it up to take a bite before offering it out to Keiran. Millie lifted a hand away to rub at her mouth as she chewed and swallowed. She found immediately that she filled a hole inside her that she hadn’t realised had been there and she set the pastry into Kieran’s hands before reaching to take up the other one.

“I was thinking, Mr Codfish…” Millie giggled, unwrapping her pastry. “That we could do some swimming and some snorkelling and we could brown you off nicely,” she paused to take a bite of her food. She tipped her head from side to side, waiting to finish eating before she could continue. “Theeeennnnn… we could get some lunch somewhere and go for a walk, maybe? Would that be alright, d’you think? I think we need to relax. Get some siesta time in and find a watering hole in the evening.”

It wasn’t lost on Millie that no amount of married life would make old habits die. Her mind was always preoccupied with doing the least of anything – a complete oxymoronic twist on the flurry of activity that composed her life at home. She was also involved heavily in exploring the finer things in her mind: which of course consisted in good food, good drink and even better cigarettes. At the expense of giving up smoking, good drink had become a prerequisite and a further example of her youth was her quiet desire to also find a place to go out dancing.

But of course, she knew she shouldn’t completely lead the way for fear of alienating her husband. Despite their similarities they were still very different people.

Keiran came close to teasing her about offering him the one she had taken a bite from, but his concern regarding whether or not she ate enough kept him quiet. He passed her a bemused attempt at a straight face when she started again. As much as he would have liked to appear annoyed, she was laughing, and just the sound of it made him feel like things were headed in the right direction. It had taken far less pain and turmoil than he had expected, but Keiran wasn’t about to question it – at least, not aloud.

As she spoke, Keiran’s gaze drifted to the water she spoke of, watching it nervously before tearing his eyes away and looking as sure of himself as he could when their eyes met again. Instead of commenting, he let her lay out her plans. He wasn't very put off by her suggestions, except maybe the water bit. The rest sounded brilliant, if not rather amusing - in the best way. Why was it that any time he planned something, his wife always managed to one-up him? It was like their first Christmas all over again. Merlin, but he'd screwed up with her gift.

In the end, Keiran nodded slowly between bites. “Of course,” he replied. “That will be perfect, love.”

So, maybe he didn’t like beaches too much. Or water with potentially strange things, people, and creatures. No, indeed, the air had been his substance of choice, the sky his preferred location. But he cared more about Millie than he did about his distaste for the adventures she suggested.

In that moment, watching for any sign that he’d said the right thing, Keiran realized that their argument had come more from his trying to prod her into saying that he was doing things right (for once). Regarding the trip, anyway; he knew things were a right mess at home. He had wanted her to be forthcoming about how things really were, but in the process he did nothing but scare her and frustrate her. If he wanted them to get along, he couldn’t push. He would have to let her offer information if she truly wanted, and not before. It was strange, he mused, that as curious as he might have been about Seamus, Keiran had never found reason to bring it up. When his own father died, he knew it affected her and brought up memories. Yet, a year later, he still hadn't been able to ask about it. He didn't want to hurt her in mentioning it. Maybe he needed to take that stance on everything; if Millie had an issue or a reason to discuss it, then she could decide to. Otherwise, he would just be scraping the surface of an aquifer of painful subjects they didn’t need to breach.

The decision made him feel lighter somehow, a smile arching itself across his face. Keiran took another bite of his breakfast to cover it up and kept quiet. Today would be her choice. Tomorrow, on the other hand... Well, if things didn't take a wrong turn (he refused to even consider the possibility), then their Valentines plans would have to be adjusted. That restaurant could just give their table to someone else. At least, this time around, Keiran hadn't failed royally at gift purchasing. He just hoped it was as amusing or romantic as he had intended upon choosing and purchasing the gift in question.

Now, he really only needed to ensure that whatever new plan he came up with couldn't be ruined. Like a flash of light, Keiran suddenly realized what needed to be done. Taking a breath to congratulate himself on his lack of idiocy, Mr. Hayes glanced down at his pastry before meeting her gaze once more. This plan had to work. Maybe once she had gone to sleep he could plan. He'd not slept the night before; he could manage one more night.

Already, an adventure had begun to form in Millie’s mind. She adored every part of lounging around on the beach and that included mischief below the waters. She had become quite proficient at casting bubble-head charms and thus she had spent a lot of time exploring the Black Lake whilst still at Hogwarts. She was quite mournful of the fact that she had not suitably spent her time there and still held a small amount of bitterness in regards to what she imagined to be a failure in regards to Keiran’s studiousness. She had not done well, resulting in her feverish pattern of work whilst at the Muggle college. She wanted to do well for him – so that he did not look poorly upon her. Still, that idea weighed on her mind. She merely wanted to prove herself.

Pressing a kiss to Keiran’s jaw in silent thanks, Millie quickly finished off her pastry – her desire to eat even when she was happy not as eagerly adhered to as she liked to imagine. After abandoning the packaging she wriggled out of her husband’s lap – though not without sneaking another kiss from his lips – and then went in search of her back, appearing to ferret through it when in reality she’d taken up her wand and was setting up notice-me-not spells over their things and, crucially, themselves also. Millie then took her wand up, out of her bag and tucked it behind her ear, setting her bag back down on the sunbed.

Once Keiran, too, had finished his food, Millie extended a hand to him and they slowly made their way down the beach. Her father’s wisdom hadn’t ever quite left her when it came to sunshine and salt water. The longer they spent in the warm sea the less likely they were to burn. Millie had little worry after herself, her hair having already begun to bleach to a white-blonde hue, but it was her husband that she was vaguely concerned about, not entirely sure whether or not she was open to the idea of taking him home the colour of Wimbledon strawberries minus the cream and Pimm’s.

The water greeted them eagerly, lapping at their legs, their hips before finally they were out far enough to slid down easily until the sea was up over their shoulders. Millie’s feet kicked beneath her and she let go of Keiran long enough to swim a little away from him but like a good boomerang she soon returned, looping her arms around his neck. She grinned wickedly at him and brought a hand up to take her wand out from behind her ear. Then, with her typical, bright fashion she cast the bubble-head charm around her mouth and let go over him, letting herself sink down into the deep water, wand in hand.

The island had prepared for the eventuality of wizard visitors and had created something that would be seen more often in a bowl for fish. A palace or castle or something of the like had been sunk into the water and the village surrounding it was both intact and deserted. There were hundreds of visitors there every year, or so Millie had read in one of the brochures. She was even sure she could spy a few fluttering feet heading down towards the castle from where she was floating just under the surface of the water.

Safe in the knowledge that Keiran would follow on behind her, Millie lit the tip of her wand and began to press on into even deeper waters, following the golden beacons on the sea floor that were leading her towards the castle. A few signs had even been bizarrely erected beneath the surface, one twisted arrow pointing in the direction of another wizarding tourist destination – an underwater theme park.

All Millie hoped, above everything, was that they’d have an easier day than the one before. She wanted nothing like what had taken place the night prior. She would have given anything just to have the rest of the holiday run smoothly.

(ooc: I don’t even know what I just wrote. O.o.)

The proverbial olive branch that Millie had offered in return for Keiran’s had been… frankly, terrifying for the ex-professor, but he had gone along with it if only to keep some sort of argument from popping up again. Keiran couldn’t stand the idea of his turning on her in order to stifle his own fear, when just the night before she had outright called him out on his cowardice. What’s more, he knew that if he let such a fight happen again, she wouldn’t let him stay. Their actual destination hadn’t been so bad, as compared to how they had to get there – Keiran was pretty sure he had stopped breathing at some point (how they actually made it without his dying from lack of air, he couldn’t say).

He couldn’t say he was surprised, honestly, when he was tugged along into the depths that were designated as the place to hold a theme park. That bit wasn’t so bad, actually, regardless of his slight grumblings to himself when she had trotted off to find something for them to do after they had exhausted most options. The return trip, just as much as the first time, was fairly awful, but they breached the surface of the water and he was fine, so Keiran kept quiet about any silent panic he had felt.

As they returned to gather their things, which were thankfully right where they left them, Keiran had to wonder after how things would go when they got home. The next morning marked Valentines Day on the calendar, and Keiran’s plans had been essentially smashed and pulled through the mud. Walking back towards the little cave house as the sun started to set, though, was almost peaceful. It was, for a few moments, as though the fight hadn’t happened. Keiran reached for her smaller hand with his larger one, slipping his fingers between hers as they walked.

Even if he couldn’t find words just then, he felt a need to show Millie that the day had gone well. Facing one’s fears was never fun, but if they survived, one might move past them. Keiran wasn’t sure it had worked on him, exactly, but Millie had seemed pleased enough.

Drawing out the key, he opened the door for her, following her inside where he dropped what little he had carried with him on his search that morning. A shadow passed over his face for a moment at the memory of it, but Keiran quickly pushed it away in order to focus on the blonde currently standing nearby. A glance at the partly-opened door leading into the bedroom suddenly alerted Keiran to how tired he really was. He hadn’t slept at all the night before, he was sure. It wasn’t one of those times that he couldn’t remember falling asleep but really had.

He closed his eyes briefly to keep himself from frowning, but moved reluctantly to the little couch bed he had made the night before, picking up the pillow and moving it back to where he would settle his head if she said no. But he had to ask, so instead of putting it off any longer, he turned over his shoulder and eyed her nervously.

“Millie, should I-,” he attempted, gesturing to the couch to his left. “That is, can I-..?”

The adventure was cathartic, stealing away all of the negativity out of the pores which had, for so long, festered and poisoned them both. The sea had teased all of that hurt, that frustration and that anger out of their skin and washed away the sadness, the antipathy and the resignation that had purveyed their relationship for what felt a lifetime in part but in reality was, thankfully, only a matter of months, albeit closer to a year than any definite, diminutive number of weeks. No amount of sea creatures and exploration could repair all that but with their salty skin and damp hair, smiles rose to their features and at least at face value, things seemed and certainly felt better. Keiran was, in many ways, the Earth to her Moon or Sun to her Mercury. Upon him she revolved and when she could no longer do that, when things grew rocky and unstable, isolating them both, neither one of them seemed to know how to function. Their relationship had existed on a primal level, a sub-level of the world they lived in. They communicated in what felt like clicks, hand gestures, weary looks and sex. How they’d survived was a miracle.

Between their easy walk back from the village and their emergence from the sea, the Hayes couple found time to eat dinner and enjoyed a platter of fresh sea food and all of the trappings that came with Greek cuisine. Then, after a few beers they started to make their way back. When Keiran took Millie’s hand in his, the blonde looked over and felt a contented smile sweep over her lips. She leaned into him, tucking herself against his side, curling his arm around her frame whilst still keeping their hands intertwined. Her other arm came around his waist and slowly but surely the two made their way back to the little house that was theirs for the week without the vibrant activity of their home. Of course, Keiran didn’t see much of that and Millie was, half of the time, disappointed in him for that but sometimes, when she looked at him as he came in through the door after a particularly hard day she was almost glad he hadn’t been. He wasn’t ready. Neither of them had been ready, actually, but she’d landed on her feet. In part, she was somewhat glad that she’d been given the space but she had certainly missed him. Nights of casting silencing charms around their bed so she was the one to get up and not him had certainly taken their toll.

Once they were back in their little house, though, Millie cast the thoughts from her mind. She set her things down by the door and slid off her shoes, scratching her fingers through her hair as she did so. Millie took off her top, the shirt now stiff rather than properly dry, and dropped it down on one of the arm chairs before wiggling out of her shorts. She looked up at the sound of Keiran’s voice and she leaned down briefly to pick up her shorts and fling them on the chair too before making her way over to him. Millie’s eyebrows rose confusedly for a moment but then she understood and comprehension dawned on her face. She smiled a little despite herself and leaned up to brush her lips against Keiran’s cheek.

“Come to bed,” she murmured. “Proper bed. Where you belong.”

Millie pulled at his hand but released it, letting him make his own way. She padded into the bedroom and tugged the strings of her bikini as she went. Slipping it off she dropped the article into the suitcase and took her nightie off of the chair she’d laid it on that morning. After pulling it overhead she took off her bottoms and put them with the top before delving into the soft, sweet smelling sheets of the bed which eagerly enveloped her in their embrace. Arse in the air, though thankfully her modesty was covered, sort of, by her nightie, and her head buried into a pillow, Millie was in her natural habitat. Bed was where she belonged – provided of course, that Keiran was there.

Rolling over, Millie tossed her arms behind her head and looked at Keiran expectantly through the door.

“C’mon,” she called. “I want to talk to you.”