Feitan's hands rested by his sides. The wooden bench had a rough untreated feel to it. He leaned forward to smell the air better: the earthy smell of duckweeds and bitter scent of decay twisted together. The typical summer smell of a marsh was a nice change from the city. The sun gently crawled across his bare forearms and chest, making the skin tingle. He waited, listening to the gentle swoosh through the leaves of trees. He figured that the water must have been fresh enough to nourish them as opposed to brackish.

The tap of feet crunching small pebbles grew louder. The pebbles must have been those rough small stones, not the smooth ones. They weren't just rubbing against each other. They were breaking chips off each other; he wondered if that hurt. The loud, but not bounding sound suggested it was indeed the person he wanted. You.

"I can't believe you're dressed like that" There was a giggle in your voice. You stood farther away than normal. People always usually treated him cautiously, but for entirely different reasons. He rose to reach out his hand with a straight elbow like an arrow.

"It's hot as fuck. Just like you."

"Well, you don't have to be so formal." You giggled again, this time at your own sarcasm. The next moment, your chest was thrust onto his chest. His nosed hummed with content; he couldn't see you very well in the fog but felt you fine enough. The flesh was still firm, apparently untouched by age. You were probably around his age; not that he had ever inquired. Instead, he was engulfed in your full, warm embrace for several seconds. He noted the height difference and decided he couldn't have cared either way. Your hair brushed his cheek and he smelled a pleasant scent of sun on hair. Giggling again, you stepped back. "I never forget how you look, but I'm pleasantly surprised every time I see you."

You felt his fingers lifting your hand. They were soft and warm—different from the usual. You hooked your arms together and walked him toward the water. There was no reason you had to link arms to walk here; you could see just fine. However, you still walked a little slowly, to no one's dismay. "I've been waiting a while."

"Perfection takes time. Indecision takes more time."

"That's an interesting thought. Going well at least?"

"It's going somewhere! I'm not in a rush, so I think it'll be okay." Your toes hit the water and squished into the mud, delightfully. "Is this too cold for you?

"I'm an assassin."

You giggled again, "And that makes your nerves stop working?"

You led him into the middle of the shallow pond. He could feel your skirt against his thigh as he pulled you close to him.

You were addressed with a question that quieted the conversation for a moment. "Could you ever kill?" He asked firmly, being sure to turn his head to face you rather than looking away in shyness. Eventually, your voice swelled again to follow conversation thread stirred by his comment.