Like a flower waiting to bloom.
She occasionally still does think of her brother, but no longer in the way she used to. Kharon was gone, just like everybody else in their family. He is only a ghost of the past, and although she misses him, he is now in the past. And becoming an adult had changed her too.
One of the few things that hadn’t changed in her life was Ivar’s presence. Perhaps they didn’t met each other as often as she would like, he was still there. And Kylin still enjoyed his company. Though right now she’s looking at the scaled piebald, a mix of hesitance, hope and fear in her eyes as she awaits his reaction.
And when he does, addressing her by her name, her heart skips a beat. Her eyes are focussed on Ivar only. When her lips curl up into a flustered and warm smile, her eyes lit up, not failing to convey the very same emotion. Her cheek tingles, and the praise has her casting her gaze down for a short moment. The word ‘really?’ lies on her lips, but Kylin manages to keep them sealed. She doesn’t know what to say or do. Nobody but Kharon had never before told her she’s beautiful – even though Ivar only refers to a part of her, it still very much affects her.
He doesn’t fail to break through it. Her smile becomes less flustered and more enthusiastic, how could it not? Kylin would never pass up an invitation to swim, especially not coming from her swim instructor. ”I’d love to!” she tells him, following him as he turns towards the sea. Falling in step with him, her nose at his shoulder, she turns to bump her muzzle against him. ”Sure you are up for it? Not afraid you’re completely out of shape?” After all, Loess didn’t have water like Ischia had.
For a moment her eyes meet his, the grins till tugging at the corners of her lips, and then she’s off. The sand on this part of the beach is heavy, making her gallop slower than what it could’ve been, but once she reaches wet and sturdier sand, Kylin speeds up. The next resistance is formed by the water, but she doesn’t once hesitate, nor glance across her shoulder. She knows Ivar is on her heels.
An electric bolt runs down her spine, as always when she dives into the water. Waves wash over her white and lavender coat. It’s like coming home. Her fins spread themselves, trembling slightly when meeting the resistance of the water. Then they move, pushing her body forward as her legs work in an attempt to keep up and move with them. Water splashes up, wetting her head, but it doesn’t bother her, as long as the salt didn’t get in her eyes.