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Water droplets stain her face, pink strands of hair dampened and sticking to her cheeks. The sensation is akin to tears, but the saltiness is different, and they are without grief. Argilla giggles softly, wipes them off with the back of her hand, continues to wade her legs through the force of water that has risen to her thighs as waves of white foam and murky greens crash and sway, unceasing.
Her hand rises in front of her eyes to meet the rays of the sun — the sea is shimmering from its reflection, and it is blinding, adding a glow that halos around the woman in front of her. Light — that yields another memory. The sun’s cast that blends with the other woman's skin lets Argilla see the smile spread across her lips, white meeting bright red, and the crashing of the waves mask the sound of her distant laughter — it sounds like hues of honey yellows and lime greens. Jinana reaches out once she nears, and the distance between them closes as her arms wrap around Argilla’s waist, pulling her in tight with a force that grounds her to reality. Up until that moment, the sights and sounds felt like a distant warmth enveloping her. Cognizant, but unrefined.
Now, here she was, in her arms, gasps of laughter that are full of mirth. Jinana’s hand grazes her cheek, pulling the pink strands of hair from her mouth and eyes, replacing their absence with a soft kiss. It’s too bright to keep her eyes open, so Argilla closes her eyelids, melts into the safety of her embrace, and that’s when she realizes how she had never felt such a thing — safety — back when there were no beaches, no sun to warm their skin, tears full of despair in its salty content.
She nuzzles into the crook of Jinana’s neck and relishes in it.