Just Keep Swimming
It was stupid to come this far inland. He knew that.
It was dangerous to leave the safety of the deep to this place where the water was thin and strange-tasting and filled with mud. He knew that.
It was insane to do this because of the barest glimpse of a creature on a boat — he knew about boats, knew how they skipped over or churned through the water above, throwing everything underneath into mild chaos until they passed — had captivated him. Bright hair, bright smile, bright eyes. Insane. He knew that.
It was downright strange to have feelings like that about someone who, similarities aside, was basically a different species. He knew that.
It was beyond hopeless to try to find a single person in a vast land he couldn’t travel on without help. He knew that.
It was impossible to know if that person, that air-breathing, walking, so-very-different person felt as strongly about him based solely on one quick, powerful connection when their eyes met, one of them looking into the water and one of them looking out. He knew that.
But it was inevitable that they would meet, and they would talk, and they would kiss.
He knew that.
And he continued on.
