Brooklyn's CheckList #2 (ongoing)

thailand: 7

It was currently about four thirty in the evening and the waves were already washing higher in expectant of the high tide. However, with the sun still hanging above them, Brooklyn and Asher were still under the sun, both of them noticeably darker in the skin.

Brooklyn was going to get some really odd shades on her body by the time they go back in. Her two piece wasn't those that could be untied from the back so she was left with no choice but to bear with it. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to just change into another set while it was still early, now she had to suffer the consequences.

And then there was Asher. He was bound to get some fucked up lines too with his shorts that fell just above his knees.

"We should probably go in soon," she said, pushing her shades down her nose. "We've been out here since noon and might get skin cancer if we stay out here any longer."

He did the same, propping on his elbows to look at her. "Calm down, babe. The sun is supposed to be good for your skin, Vitamin D and all that. Besides, what are sunscreens for if not to protect your skin from sensitive rays."

"But my tan lines are horrible," whined Brooklyn, "it's all your fault for making me wear this."

"Hey, let's not play the blame game again," he raises his hands defensively. "I only gave you a suggestion but you yourself willingly chose to wear it knowing the weather. You look sexy as hell in it, by the way," he added as an afterthought.

"I want to go in," she repeated, huffing a breath and throwing her legs over the side. She picked up her towel that was never used and threw it over her shoulder.

Asher quickly got on his feet. He chased after her and successfully managed to block her path. "How about we take a dip in the sea. Do you know how to swim?"

Before she could answer with a "no," she was over his shoulder and he was jogging down the distance from the house to the water. Her doom was getting closer and she still hasn't uttered a word to save herself.

In a instant, she was flying and the water made a loud splash upon impact. So what if she was heavy. Her head went below the surface, and she started to panic. She flailed her arms around trying to get up.

Asher was chuckling to his girl's newfound situation. He knew he was going to get hell raining upon him when she gets up, but he didn't mind. She always looked cute even when she's mad.

He waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

That was when it hit him. "Shit," he cursed, the smile disappearing and he dived into the water. She was still struggling, but the movements were less frantic, like she was out of energy - or breath.

His arms went around her and with a powerful kick, he raised the both of them to the surface. Brooklyn's eyes were shutting, and he never felt so much fear.

What if he unintentionally unconscious accidentally killed his girlfriend?

He cringed at the thought. Crouching down, he laid her on the sand and poked her arm.

Yes, poked.

He didn't know how to do this. Shit. Does he go straight to CPR? Or makes sure she needed it first before he does it. Okay, pump thirty times at her chest, blow twice in her mouth - or was that just for trained personnel?

He remembered reading about it once but it was a long time ago and it's fuzzy - only skimming down the article does that. If he were to pay more attention he wouldn't be in this situation right now. There was something along the lines of 100-120 compressions per minute.