Chapter 257: Swimming
Chapter 257: Swimming
Anyone else would have seen through Elias immediately.
A person like Melinda, for example, would have recognized the routine for what it was. He had walked out in swimwear looking so embarrassed he seemed ready to disappear into the tiles, yet he had still come out exactly as dressed, still waiting in the open where Giselle would have to see him. Was he truly ashamed, or was he carefully making sure every trace of that shame was visible?
The answer was obvious.
It was a painfully basic little performance. A sharper person would have noticed the exact timing. Elias had changed quickly, made sure the terrace was visible from inside, and then placed himself where the sun could catch him before calling Giselle out. His uncertainty was carefully measured. Enough to make her want to reassure him. Never enough to make her retreat indoors and leave him alone.
But Giselle was not Melinda.
For someone as inexperienced as Giselle, it was more than enough.
Elias watched her standing just inside the suite, attention caught on him, her usually composed face briefly unreadable. He let his knees angle inward and shifted his weight as though the exposure had become even harder to bear. The corner of his mouth nearly lifted.
She was adorable when she did not know what to do.
"G-Giselle..."
His voice brought her back.
Giselle stepped through the glass door and came closer to the pool. Her gaze passed over him once, careful and direct, then settled on his face.
"It looks good," she said. "It suits you."
She meant it as reassurance.
If she praised the swimwear plainly, perhaps Elias would stop trying to hide himself behind his hands. She did not want him to feel humiliated over something she had chosen for him. The suit was appropriate. It was comfortable. He looked beautiful in it, though that last thought stayed locked behind her teeth.
Elias tipped his head. "Really?"
"Really."
The tension in his posture eased. Not entirely, but enough that Giselle could breathe again. The sight of him looking so helpless had made her uncertain where to put her own eyes. Now he seemed less overwhelmed, and that was what mattered.
"Then come in with me," Elias said.
Giselle paused.
"I will stay here."
His expression changed.
It was a subtle thing. He had heard the same answer when she told him they could wait until tomorrow to see the ocean, and then he had accepted it easily. But this time, the disappointment showed. His mouth softened. His hand lowered from his chest. He looked at the water as if it had lost some of its appeal.
"Then I do not want to swim either."
It could have sounded like sulking. It could have sounded as though he was trying to punish her for refusing.
Giselle did not hear it that way.
She saw dependence.
Elias had asked her to join him, and without her, the pool suddenly held no interest. The realization touched something deep in her, something uncomfortably warm. He leaned on her so completely. Needed her presence. Needed the reassurance of her hand, her voice, the knowledge that she was close enough to reach.
He was not making a demand. That was what made it harder to refuse. He only looked ready to set aside something he wanted because she would not be there to share it. He did not blame her. He did not argue. His disappointment was small and quiet, which made it feel less like pressure and more like a need she could answer.
It was like watching a vine search for something sturdy enough to wrap around.
Without her, would he even know how to stand?
The thought should have frightened her.
Instead, for one dangerous beat, it satisfied her.
The feeling came from the same place as her urge to keep him beside her, to take care of every need before he spoke it, to make sure nothing else could claim his attention. That was not protection. That was control.
Giselle frowned.
She hated control. She hated the way Victoria had mapped out her life under the name of concern, turning every choice into an order she was expected to obey gracefully. She would not become that woman merely because Elias made it easy to want more of him.
Before she could say anything, Elias turned toward the low table where his clothes were folded. He reached for them as though he meant to change back.
Giselle caught his wrist.
"Fine," she said, and the word came out with a mixture of resignation and affection. "I will change too."
Elias’s eyes brightened.
[System Theta: Host...]
"What?"
[System Theta: Nothing.]
System Theta decided there was nothing useful to say. If Giselle knew that Elias’s suddenly profound dependence was motivated in part by his desire to see her in a swimsuit, she might have had a different reaction.
Giselle disappeared into the bathroom.
She returned quickly.
Elias looked up, and his eyes sharpened with genuine interest.
Her swimsuit was a one-piece, modest in the ways that mattered to Giselle. It covered her from the torso through the tops of her thighs, much like his own suit. But the cut along her sides left a slim line of waist visible, and the open back showed smooth skin and the clean strength of her shoulders. Nothing about it looked deliberately provocative. That somehow made the effect worse.
Giselle looked composed, but a faint color lingered at her ears.
She had chosen the suit because it was sensible. That was the explanation she gave herself. It was suitable for the weather, suitable for the private pool, and far less revealing than the options the resort had sent up. Still, standing in it while Elias looked at her made practicality feel like a weak defense.
Elias let his expression turn openly eager.
He had already used enough trembling shyness for one afternoon. There was no need to repeat the same act. Instead, he gave her the clear signal of someone looking forward to sharing an experience with her.
Giselle understood.
She reached for his hand.
Even that familiar gesture felt different now. Their fingers laced together, but the bare warmth of their hands was more noticeable than it had been in the car or the suite. Giselle felt her heartbeat speed up once, then settle again beneath the discipline she had practiced all her life.
"Let’s go," she said.
"Okay."
She led him to the pool steps and entered first.
The water closed over her feet, then rose over her ankles and calves. It was warmer than the air, kept comfortable by the afternoon sun and the pool’s heating system. Not hot enough to be a spa, but warm enough that the muscles in Elias’s shoulders began to relax just looking at it.
Giselle turned back and smiled at him.
"Come down. It feels nice."
With her holding his hand, Elias stepped in.
Water curled around his legs. The small pool came only to their lower thighs where they stood, clear enough that he could see the pale tiles beneath his feet. Once he was in, however, he did not let go of Giselle’s hand.
Neither did she.
They stood there with their fingers linked as if the water around them were an open sea and one loose grip would be enough to separate them forever.
"Do you know how to swim?" Giselle asked.
Elias looked at her.
"No."
"It is all right," Giselle said. Her voice was calm, encouraging. "I will teach you."
Elias nodded.
"Stay close," she added. "You will not fall while I am holding you."
The promise was simple. It worked anyway. His fingers tightened around hers, but the stiffness in his shoulders loosened by a degree.
Giselle began with the basics. She had him keep one hand in hers and use the other to steady himself near the edge. She showed him how to loosen his body, how to breathe without panicking, how to lift his feet one at a time instead of fighting the water.
"Do not tense up," she told him. "Let the water hold you. Try to float."
Elias tried.
He raised both feet.
Gravity won immediately.
The moment his balance shifted, he slipped beneath the surface. Giselle grabbed his arm and pulled him up, but not before he inhaled a mouthful of water.
Elias coughed, startled and breathless.
Panic flashed across his face.
Then he clung to her.
His arms looped around Giselle’s neck with an instinctive urgency. The water carried some of his weight, and he curled closer until his legs hooked around her waist to keep himself from slipping again. The motion happened too quickly for either of them to think about it.
One second, they had been holding hands.
The next, Elias was pressed tightly against her.
Their damp swimwear was all that separated them.
Giselle froze.
Elias did too.
The water made a quiet sound against the pool walls. Somewhere inside the suite, the air-conditioning hummed. Beyond the terrace, the sea moved under the fading light.
Neither of them spoke.
Elias’s breath slowly steadied against her shoulder. His grip remained firm, though the frightened tension began to drain out of him. Giselle did not ask him to move. Her hands stayed at his back and side, keeping him secure without seeming to know where else they belonged.
The silence lasted longer than it should have.
Long enough for their breathing to become the only clear sound.
Long enough for one of their heartbeats to become impossible to ignore.
At last, Elias lifted his head.
Giselle looked down.
In each other’s eyes, their lips looked damp, catching the fading light.