Coming Up For Air | ✓

8 | a suntastic time

Sat on rooftops, tree branches or soaring across the sky, the birds of Blue Windflower Lake celebrate the nice summer's day. The chirps of their birdsong blend together in harmony. Some whistles are faint, barely there. Some are soft, a melodic tune in the above. And then there are the high-pitched ones. Louder, more intense than the rest, as if claiming their spot center stage.

Where she lies at the end of their small dock, Fizzy lets out a long sigh-sounding exhale. She lifts her head—and for one brief moment Stella swears the Golden Retriever shoots her an amused glance—,using one of her hind legs to scratch her ear before she rolls over on her side again, going back to sleep.

The sun beats down on them, its rays warm as they sprawl over Stella's skin where she's propped up on her stomach—the terrycloth of her orange-and-white striped towel pressing a pattern into her elbows.

Notch between her brows, pen perched between her lips, she glances down at the crossword before her. The magazine carries a faint whiff of paper having gone slightly damp, another droplet of water falling from her hair onto the ruffled page where it smudges the blue ink.

She nudges her sunglasses from where they're sat atop her head and lets them linger on the slope of her nose for a moment, only to push them back up again with a small sigh.

Letting the pen fall to the magazine with a light thud, she reaches out to grab an apple slice from the plate stood next to her. She rests her chin in her palm as she lets her gaze linger on a faraway bee hovering above the flowerbeds of the garden. Following its small movements, she absentmindedly reaches for another slice just as Jake appears in the corner of her eye.

"I need your help," She says as he effortlessly heaves himself onto the dock and out of the water. She motions to the six bottles of nail polish all lined up before her. "I can't decide on a color."

Cold water prickles her skin as Jake comes to stand next to her, eclipsing the sunlight as he casts her in shadow.

Twisting to look at him, elbows twisting grooves into her towel, Stella presses her lips together to quell a small smile as she watches him shake the water out of his hair. She cannot deny the motion reminds her of Fizzy emerging from a swim.

Jake's eyes narrow as the corners of her lips twitch dangerously, though his mouth remains in its upward tilt. "What?"

Stella rolls her lips together again, smile evident in the way her cheeks tighten. "Nothing."

Stretching his arms overhead, Jake causes a faint flex of muscles beneath his skin before he drops down next to her on the wooden planks. And though she's the one who's been splayed out underneath the sun while he just emerged from the water, where they lie side by side—as close as they possibly could without touching—, she can sense the warmth radiate off him.

That's Jake: warmth. Always beaming smiles and full laughs and dark eyes carrying the notion of empathy.

 Her gaze lingers on his profile as he props himself up on his elbows. Droplets of water trail along his skin as he makes a great show of examining the bottles of nail polish. Sticking to his dark lashes, running down his cheekbones, touching against the faded scar on his chin.

"Well," He says, bottom lip jutting out as he considers the six contestants. "You've done red already,"

Stella's eyes flicker from the creases etched into Jake's skin, lingering proof of his bright smile—not quite dimples but far from what one would call wrinkles—, to the bottles as he moves the bright red aside.

His fingers close around the bottle of sage green next. "And then you did this one," Eyeing the selection, he moves yet another bottle aside. "And then this. So...,"