Reticent

Green Eyes in the Moonlight

It was a couple days later when the stranger returned. This time with a sketchbook and a variety of pencils. Once again, he sat, leaning against the same tree, mask at his side, wearing the same green hoodie. George carefully watched as the man took in the sun, then examined his surroundings with such care and intent, as if looking too carelessly would set the forest ablaze. He took his time admiring, measuring, memorizing before finally putting pencil to paper.

The stranger drew for hours, taking careful strokes, making sure he captured every detail of George's beautiful pond. George, however, stayed just out of sight, careful not to stir the water. The man seemed far too focused to notice if George did move, though. He wished he could watch over the stranger's shoulder as he drew. He wasn't exactly sure what he was drawing; the stranger seemed to be looking past the bank of George's pond. Perhaps to the surrounding trees on the opposite end of the water, closer to the beaver dam. Or maybe the canopy of leaves above them, gently swaying in the warm breeze. Maybe the wildflowers growing along the pond in patches, close enough for George to touch if he so pleased. Maybe all of it, everything.

It was dangerous to be seen by a human, however. There's no way he could watch over the stranger's shoulder. George didn't want to startle the stranger or bring danger upon himself. More than that, and George wouldn't admit, he didn't want to disturb the stranger. He looked so... At ease leaning against that tree. He must've been escaping something, George figured. Why else come to a wild pond in the middle of the forest, hidden from the rest of the world?

A kingfisher dived from the hovering tree branches and aimed for a smaller fish within arm's reach of George. The sudden struggle startled George as well as the stranger, the former quickly ducking under the water and the latter getting up and moving closer to the pond to see what happened.

George froze as the man slowly scanned over the surface of the water where the bird had snagged the fish. If he moved, he was sure this person would see him. Through the quiet waters, George heard the man say something. His voice seemed gentle and curious, though his words were a bit muffled. He called out something more, but George remained frozen and out of sight under the water.

Eventually, the man went back to what he was drawing, though George had his fill. He remained underwater near the bottom of the pond until after dark. The stranger had long since gone by the time George resurfaced.

He came back the next day, however. He carried nothing with him but the mask. When he sat against the tree, he didn't take it off but merely stayed there, motionless. After maybe half an hour or so, George assumed he had fallen asleep. He really was comfortable at the pond. Falling asleep so easily against the tree showed that. He wondered what was at home that pushed this stranger away. Pushed him here.

George lifted himself upright on the bank with a surge of confidence fueled by curiosity. He watched over the stranger as he peacefully slept in the warm afternoon. His chest rose and fell in gentle rhythm, his arms crossed over his stomach. Birds sang overhead in soft melodies, almost in lullaby.

"He looks like he belongs here..." George muttered aloud. Slowly and quietly, George pulled himself out of the water and moved closer and closer to the sleeping stranger. He wanted to see his face. This stranger was so enticing already, when he was too far to see clearly. George wanted to see every detail of his face up close. He wanted to see what color his eyes were.

Though the stranger had to be awake for that.

When he got close enough, George reached towards the white mask and gently took it in his webbed hand. It felt like marble, slightly cool to the touch but smooth and sturdy. With trembling hands, George removed the mask and set it in the grass. His shadow protected the stranger from the bright rays of light.

His face had soft features, his skin was a bit tanned and freckles were sprinkled across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. His hair was blonde and wavy, falling just barely past his eyes, unstyled. His lips were slightly parted in his relaxed state.

Nervously, George reached up and touched the stranger's cheek. The touch was soft, barely detectable. Like a feather merely ghosting over skin. Gently and unconsciously, the stranger leaned into the touch, comforted. George's eyes grew wide and his chest started to ache. He took in a sharp breath.

The man stirred in his sleep as an aggressive breeze brushed past. George flinched at the movement, quickly pulling his hand back and allowing rays of sunlight to touch his skin. The brightness woke the stranger.

George stared at him in terror as the stranger's eyes fluttered open, revealing them to be a welcoming rich green color. He raised a hand to block the sunlight, then locked eyes with George who was completely frozen in fear.

The stranger's breath hitched and he pressed himself into the tree, no room to back up properly.

George snapped back to reality, realizing his mistake, and broke eye contact. He turned away, launching himself towards the water. The second he could reach, he dived in and planned to never resurface.

Maybe he thinks he's still dreaming, his thoughts ran frantically in his head. Water rushed past his ears as he swam deeper into the pond. I shouldn't have done that!! What the fuck is wrong with me?? What was I thinking?? His heart raced and he took shallow, labored breaths of water. George kept going deeper and deeper into the pond. He needed to get as far away as possible.

"Wait!!" The stranger called as he reached after George. His voice failed to reach its audience. He crawled to the bankside and searched desperately through the water.

George sat at the bottom of the pond, nearly hyperventilating, swearing at himself over and over. The water was clear enough that the stranger could see him, now that he knew what he was looking for. "Come back..." He said much softer this time. His voice was full of yearning and unanswered questions.

The man sat at the bankside patiently waiting for George to come back. He stayed there for hours, long into the night. The stranger allowed himself to enjoy the different aesthetic of the pond in the moonlight and reminded himself to come back at some point to enjoy this aspect of the pond in full.

George was painfully aware the man was waiting for him. He panicked for hours, overthinking what this mystery person could possibly want with him. Eventually, George resurfaced, realizing there was no other way to get the man to leave. Staying under the water was becoming agonizing.

The two of them locked eyes, waiting to see who would speak first.

The stranger gladly took the opportunity.

"Hello~" He greeted with a gentle smile, not a hint of malice in his voice. "My name's Dream. What's yours?"