Meredith.
The water was colder than yesterday.
It nipped at my skin as I stepped in, rising over my knees, then my waist. A hiss escaped between my teeth. I didn't complain out loud. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
Draven stood on the side of the pool, his shadow long across the surface, arms crossed over his bare chest. He didn't speak immediately. Just stared.
I dipped under quickly and came back up with a gasp, pushing my wet hair back. His eyes didn't follow my movement so much as track it—silent, calculating.
"What are you waiting for?" I asked, wiping water from my face.
"Silence," he replied flatly.
I blinked at him.
"Ten minutes," he added. "Float. Still. Don't speak. Don't sink."
"That's all?"
He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching like he almost wanted to smile—but didn't.
"Unless you plan to drown," he said. "Yes. That's all."
I moved to the centre, arms out, spine straightening.
