Have you? Recently? [Not that he's asking to be invited along on these skinny dipping explorations, but. But.
The slight rock of the boat on the mostly-still lake is nothing compared to the actual tip and reel of a ship on the high seas, but Koby's reaction is the same as Quentin’s -- a soft exhale, a relaxation, a release, like some fundamental part of his soul is satisfied. He holds the bag tight to his chest, hoping -- hoping this'll work. That it'll help, the way it had helped him, earlier that same day, alone out in the rowboat.
The question gets a pleased, proud smile -- a rare sight, considering how rarely Koby’s proud about anything he does.] I patched it. I used to maintain the lifeboats, back -- well. Back when I was at sea. Never know when you're suddenly going to be brave enough to escape, right?
[They're close to the middle of the lake already, the distance eaten up easily by Quentin’s practiced, strong pulls of the oars. Koby watches his arms for a moment, teeth finding his lower lip, chewing absently as he gazes shamelessly at the bunch and stretch of muscle and sinew. Then, blinking:] Here. Here's good. Do you trust me? [It seems out of nowhere, but Koby is -- deathly serious about it, all of a sudden.]
no subject
The slight rock of the boat on the mostly-still lake is nothing compared to the actual tip and reel of a ship on the high seas, but Koby's reaction is the same as Quentin’s -- a soft exhale, a relaxation, a release, like some fundamental part of his soul is satisfied. He holds the bag tight to his chest, hoping -- hoping this'll work. That it'll help, the way it had helped him, earlier that same day, alone out in the rowboat.
The question gets a pleased, proud smile -- a rare sight, considering how rarely Koby’s proud about anything he does.] I patched it. I used to maintain the lifeboats, back -- well. Back when I was at sea. Never know when you're suddenly going to be brave enough to escape, right?
[They're close to the middle of the lake already, the distance eaten up easily by Quentin’s practiced, strong pulls of the oars. Koby watches his arms for a moment, teeth finding his lower lip, chewing absently as he gazes shamelessly at the bunch and stretch of muscle and sinew. Then, blinking:] Here. Here's good. Do you trust me? [It seems out of nowhere, but Koby is -- deathly serious about it, all of a sudden.]