Chapter Text
Afterwards, they don't kiss again for a while.
Going into the summer, work is slow and she stays in the main house and he stays in the guest house. The encounters they do have are strange. Like all her worst fears play out before they turn into what it should be.
But in the quiet moments, late at night or when a meeting becomes inane, she replays it in her head. The kiss, the feel of him. The air changing.
The weight slowly lifting.
Kumu knows, shooting her not so obvious glares across the table.
She's sure the text thread devoted to their relationship has been buzzing like mad. The urge to hack it and just see has been maddening.
Watching from her office window, the weight has shifted from her shoulders to her heart.
In the distance she sees a figure approaching the beach. He's been ramping up the surf ski, as he does when he's bothered by something.
"Just go to him."
Kumu not so gently turns the pages of her magazine, not looking up.
*
He is just pulling the boat out of the water, and she watches his shoulder muscles flex.
Just stands there, watching.
It could be hers. Should be hers. Is hers.
He all but told her so.
Wiping his brow with his cap, he stares out over the ocean.
After a few minutes, she watches him head towards the guest house. He doesn’t acknowledge her, but right before the little sea wall, he stops.
”I think I will take a shower, make dinner. Cold beers. Talk. Whenever you’re ready.”
With that, he walks away and leaves her standing there.
*
He doesn’t care what she wears. Thinks she looks nice regardless.
But she wants to do better then nice.
Looking over the pile of dresses, the one with the rose pattern catches her eye.
Better then nice.
*
The guest house smells amazing. Like warm vanilla and a whiff of tobacco.
”You came.”
He looks startled and seems at a loss for what to do next.
”Yes. You were asking, weren’t you?”
He nods, setting the wine glasses down.
”I was, I just …”
They stand in an awkward silence for a minute and she wants to run.
Turn around, quit her job and beg MI6 for the most covert mission they have and just not be here anymore.
”Sit. Want some wine? It’s Shiraz. Your favourite.”
He makes a big fuss of looking for a corkscrew and the awkwardness makes way for annoyance.
The panic suddenly sets in her throat and she could still run.
But her body won’t let her.
*
The wine is good, and he’s made chicken pilav and bought apricot jello for dessert.
They talk about Joy, about Robin’s upcoming visit.
The elephant in the room grows bigger and bigger, and her breathing becomes ragged.
”Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
Putting down her wine glass, she swallows. But she needed to ask.
”I asked you out, I was telling you. I think.”
His mood turns, like he’s more annoyed then anything.
”Was it such a horrid idea? Being with me?”
She has no idea where this is suddenly coming from.
”Of course not. Why would you think so?”
He sets down his glass, and she can see him thinking.
”You know the Ember leak? Where that kid hacked the files of that medical database?”
She nods, still not comprehending.
”Your therapist, she uses it. To store patient notes. And Katsumoto, he called me. Said your file was leaked. If you wanted a copy. I said yes he sent it to our joint e mail and I only read the cliff notes, promise. But I just … couldn’t read further. You thought your feelings were like, an illness?”
The world has stopped spinning.
“I didn’t understand them. I needed someone to tell me, to help me process.”
”Process?”
“Yes. You read my file?”
“Only the first page, but it told me enough.”
She’s ruined it, she’s sure. Why would he want a woman who can not even grasp her own emotions. Who needs help understanding them.
”Why didn’t you tell Kumu? Or Maleah?”
She huffs, thinking of the text thread.
”Or me, why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
”I couldn’t. The dreams. They would have just amused you, Thomas. A joke to needle me with.”
She never told him about the dreams where they did nothing more then dance, or woke up before sunrise on a Sunday. Or the one where he just held her close and made her feel safe.
The tears are starting to prick, and her stomach hurts. Her heart hurts.
”And you asked me out, and I wanted to. But I panicked and said no and Cole and …”
“Did you want to say yes? If I asked you to go hiking with me tomorrow, would you say yes?”
She nods, and he won’t look her in the eye.
”I can’t give you what Ethan or Richard gave you. I am just the guy in the poolhouse with a bartab a mile long and a maxed out creditcard. You deserve a guy who …”
Pausing, he looks up to gauge her reaction.
”Who what?”
”Could make you happy.”
And then the elephant in the room just explodes inside her chest.
He gets up to fetch the wine bottle, and the silence is almost painful.
”Don’t you want to make me happy?”
Turning around, she can feel his heartbeat speeding up from across the room.
”Because you do. Make me happy.”
She gets up and crosses the room until she’s mere inches apart from him.
”I uh, don’t know how we go forward from here. But I am willing to try, if you are. I don’t want to be afraid anymore, Thomas. Do you?”
He kisses her forehead, his stubble scratchy against her forehead.
”Go hiking with me tomorrow. Run away with me.”
Then he kisses her nose.
”The Pillbox. We could camp out.”
He kisses her again, and it feels good. Normal. Like things clicking into place.
“We’ll take things slow. You set the pace.”
She can only nod and hope that he doesn’t taste her tears or feel her shake.
*
He wakes her early the next morning, rubbing his nose against her temple.
“Hi.”
”Good morning.”
She must be dreaming, she’ll wake soon and they’ll be back at square one.
But she snuggles into him, relishing his warmth.
It’s not a dream.
Not right now, anyway.