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[dualites]

The relative monotony of the weather was something that still bothered Thomas, and although part of his continuing sense of displacement stemmed from the fact that it had only been a month since he'd arrived, he suspected that this, at least, was something he'd never really get used to. No place he'd lived before had been quite so static. He almost

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[provincialbelle]

Belle had never meant to stumble upon anyone's personal time and when she had found her way to the beach for a swim, it looked as though she had done just that. She might have eased away, tried to hurry off, but it looked like he had caught sight of her and now she felt too awkward to just go.

"Can I ask," she spoke tentatively as she approached. "What are you doing?"

[dualites]

"Stretching," came the response, another beat passing before Thomas actually straightened up, looking up and offering the girl a slight (polite) smile. Shifting, he brushed some of the sand from his shorts, gaze running once over her frame in a manner that was more calculating than anything else.

"I was just swimming," he added, by way of explanation, unsure of whether or not that would suffice but choosing to leave it at that for the moment.

[provincialbelle]

"I thought maybe it was that..." She paused, her forehead furrowing as she lost the word. "Qu'est que c'est le mot..." She struggled for another moment. "Where you stretch, but it's for a workout? Something with a y?"

[dualites]

"Tu parle français?" he asked easily, a glimmer of something akin to eagerness coloring his voice. French wasn't something he necessarily found the opportunity to speak often, and one he hadn't thought he'd find here. Her previous question, he disregarded - not, perhaps, an advised conversational tack, but one he couldn't bring himself to really care about.

[itwas_perfect]

She'd felt freer, that day. Or, that's what she'd convinced herself. When she'd opened her eyes, alone in a room that wasn't at all like the one she'd grown up in, a smile had flickered across her face, innocent and pure, and a brief edge of something sly and knowing, that was gone as quickly as it had come.

She went out. She didn't blockade herself in the studio, didn't sit in a quiet corner of the rec room. Instead, she'd gone down to the beach, which wasn't much of a rebellion, but it was a change from hours of working herself until she literally bled.

When she stumbled on him, she wore a bikini of soft pink and green flowered paisley, a sheer, white cotton sundress thrown over it as a cover-up. She was modest, but not puritanical, after all.

Still, she found herself staring just a moment too long, her cheeks already coloring slightly before she got up enough nerve to clear her throat and say, "Hey."

[dualites]

The saying the clothes make the man wasn't one that Thomas had ever disregarded. Different clothes made people regard the human body in different ways, and now was no exception. Dance clothes were generally fairly baring - not in that they necessarily showed a lot of skin, but they didn't really leave the contours of one's frame to the imagination.

Still, the way that he looked at Nina seemed at least a little different, his gaze upon her from the moment that he began to sit back up, shoulders rolling back, his expression more akin to the one he'd worn during the quieter moments of the gala during which they'd announced the beginning of the season than not.

"Nina." He offered up a slight nod, lips pulling into a lopsided smile. "You look lovely." It wasn't often that he gave out compliments of any nature, being too used to being the center of things, himself; as such, he continued on, leaving no time between that and his next question: "Headed into the water? Or are you staying on the sand?"

[itwas_perfect]

Ducking her head, she blushed faintly, a coy smile flickering over her face, looking more of a girl than the woman she should've been. She was a beautiful girl, and always had been, hardly going through an awkward period, even early in her teens. She was used to having eyes on her, but as Thomas had pointed out during rehearsals, she was still too much of a child to draw much lust. So, while there wasn't any measure of heat in his look, it was still enough to embarrass her.

"I thought I might," she admitted, trying not to wither too much under his gaze. "How was it?"

[dualites]

"Good," Thomas said with a quick nod, the single syllable accompanied by a shrug as he switched legs (his eyes stayed on her til the last possible moment, following the curve of her lips). "Novel, but good." While he'd taken the tide into account while heading in, actually swimming against it had been a different matter. That wasn't so much a complaint as a simple statement of the fact; storm season, assuming that it was something that happened around here, wasn't something that he fancied he wanted to be caught in.

[bothgodown]

Despite her anxiety about the reality of the people here, Miranda sometimes finds herself simply staring. It is not proper and certainly not polite, but she gets caught up. It is as if she is watching some sort of book unfold, a painting come to life. All of these people, with their hopes and fears and feelings, all so alive. So wondrous in their ways and she wishes to know them and to understand.

Her hands are clasped loosely in front of her as her head tilts slightly to the side. The red dress she is wearing is shorter than she would have liked, but it is better than some of the alternatives. After a moment of watching more she takes a step and then stops.

"Why art thou moving in such a way? Are you preparing to dance?"

[dualites]

Miranda's isn't a mode of speech that Thomas really expected to encounter anywhere, even with having lived in New York for the better part of his life. His expression does a fairly good job of conveying his surprise as he looks up, although that surprise is quickly tempered by the sight of the girl herself. (Naif is the first word that comes to mind. He'd guess that she's just a handful of years - at most - behind the dancers in his company, but her visage seems so much younger.)

"Not quite," he answers, proceeding to stretch out the other leg. "Your muscles contract when you swim; I'm stretching them back out."

[bothgodown]

Chewing on her lower lip for a moment, she considers what he says before nodding slightly. It does make sense and fits in with what she knows to be true. It is not something that she has ever done, at least not in this context. Stretching before and after dancing is one thing, this another.

"Hmm." Miranda nods approvingly. "That does make sense. All an effort to keep one from becoming stiff at a most unfortunate time. How very good of you and for you it must be."

[dualites]

He can't help the slight dubiousness that flickers across his face, the mere amount of earnestness that she projects a bit dumbfounding for a man who's spent most of his life learning how to get along in a fairly cynical manner. It isn't anything that he finds objectionable - curious, is all.

"It helps," he says, lacking a proper retort, still eying her as he straightens back up. "Not much for swimming, are you?"

[pointzerothree]

It isn't exactly something Eduardo is expecting to see while out on the beach, someone stretching, but the fact that it's a familiar face prevents it from making too much of a difference. His own towel is draped over his arm as he walks over, chin already lifting in a greeting. Fine as he is with spending time out here by himself, the climate one of the few things that he honestly does like about this place, a little company is never a bad idea. "Hey, man," he says, weight on his heels in the sand. "You, uh, just go for a swim?"

[dualites]

"Came out of the water a couple of minutes ago," Thomas responds, taking his time in straightening back up. "Headed in, yourself?" The thought of going in for a second round isn't one he'd considered, but if it is Eduardo's intention to get a little exercise in, a little competition couldn't hurt. At least, it would break up the monotony.

[pointzerothree]

"Not just yet, I don't think," Eduardo says with a shrug, though he's dressed for it, figuring he might as well keep his options open. Having grown up around beaches, he isn't of the school of thought that says this is something to take advantage of, to enjoy while they have it or some shit like that, but there's just no point in not using it. "In a little, maybe. So how's it going?"

[dualites]

"As well as it ever does, here." Not the most cheerful of responses, but he feels that it's apt. There's a status quo here, provided that it isn't a holiday. Eat, sleep, repeat, so on and so forth. "How've you been?" He doesn't expect anything particularly out of the ordinary in return, but given the fact that one of their last conversations revolved around the appearance of a chicken (which, honestly, he's still a little amused by), it seems worth asking.