Swimsuit
1927 Words
The steady hum of the air conditioner filled the hotel room as I sat at the small desk, surrounded by a mess of highlighters, notebooks, and review materials. The periodic table stared back at me, mocking my tired brain. I had been studying for hours, yet nothing seemed to stick.
I let out a frustrated sigh, tossing my pen onto the desk. “This is impossible.”
Across the room, he looked up from his laptop, where he had been busy working. He had been so focused, barely saying a word, but now his brows lifted in amusement. “Already giving up?”
I groaned, leaning back in my chair. “I don’t understand why I need to memorize all these elements. Who even decided that this was necessary?”
A smirk tugged at his lips as he closed his laptop and walked toward me. “Alright, let’s see how much you actually know.”
I frowned as he picked up my notebook and flipped through the pages. “I swear, if you quiz me right now, I might cry.”
He ignored my empty threat and tapped my forehead lightly with my pen. “Let’s test you. What’s the atomic number of carbon?”
I exhaled loudly. “Six.”
“Good.” He nodded. “Symbol for potassium?”
“K.”
“K… as in ‘K, but you should keep studying,’” he teased, a grin forming on his lips.
I shot him a look, but I couldn’t fight the small smile tugging at my own lips. “You’re annoying.”
“But you’re smiling,” he pointed out, obviously pleased with himself.
Before I could respond, he walked over to the minibar. I watched, confused, as he grabbed something from inside. A moment later, he returned, placing a small plate of almonds beside me and handing me a cup of warm milk.
I blinked. “What’s this?”
“Brain food,” he said simply. Then, without warning, he leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to my forehead. “You need to calm down. You’re doing fine.”
I froze, my brain short-circuiting—not because of science this time, but because of him.
For a moment, I forgot about my frustration. Forgot about the periodic table. Forgot about everything.
“You didn’t have to do this,” I mumbled, staring at the almonds as if they held all the answers to my exam.
“You get grumpy when you’re stressed,” he said with a shrug, moving behind me. Before I could react, he rested his chin on my shoulder, his arms lightly draping over my chair. “And you’re very dramatic.”
I turned my head slightly to glare at him. “Excuse me?”
“You just said the periodic table was torture,” he reminded me, laughing.
“Because it is.”
He smirked. “Then I guess I’ll have to stay here and make sure you survive it.”
I huffed, grabbing an almond and popping it into my mouth just to keep myself from smiling too much. “Fine. But if I fail this exam, I’m blaming you.”
He chuckled. “Deal.”
And just like that, the periodic table didn’t seem so terrible anymore.
Hours passed by so quick, in the afternoon the sun peeked through the hotel room’s curtains, casting a soft glow inside. I was still at the desk, staring blankly at my notes, when he stretched his arms and closed his laptop.
“Alright, enough studying,” he announced, standing up.
I looked at him, confused. “Huh?”
“Let’s go for a swim.”
I blinked. “What?”
“The pool,” he said casually, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You’ve been stressing over those elements all day. A quick swim will help you relax.”
I hesitated. “I… I didn’t bring any swimwear.”
His lips twitched, as if he had been expecting that answer. “You don’t need to worry about that.”
I frowned. “Why?”
Instead of answering, he walked over to his suitcase, unzipped it, and pulled out a small paper bag. Then, with a smug look, he handed it to me.
Curious, I took it and peeked inside—only to freeze.
Inside was a brand-new swimsuit. A simple yet elegant piece, a perfect combination of pink and blue.
My heart did an embarrassing little flip.
“You—” I looked up at him, my mind struggling to process. “You bought this for me?”
He shrugged, leaning against the desk with an easy smile. “I had a feeling you wouldn’t bring one.”
I stared at him, completely speechless.
I should’ve said something—anything—but my brain was short-circuiting.
“You’re blushing,” he teased, his tone laced with amusement.
“I am not,” I shot back, even though my cheeks were warm.
He chuckled, crossing his arms. “So? Are you coming with me or not?”
I bit my lip, looking at the swimsuit again. It was… thoughtful. Almost too thoughtful.
And maybe, just maybe, I wanted to spend more time with him.
With a deep breath, I lifted my chin and met his gaze.
“Fine,” I said, trying to sound unaffected. “But if I drown, it’s your fault.”
He smirked. “Don’t worry. I’ll catch you.”
And just like that, the periodic table wasn’t the only thing making my heart race anymore.
I held the swimsuit in my hands, still feeling a bit shy about the whole situation. He had really thought this through—more than I expected.
“Go change,” he said, nodding toward the bathroom.
I hesitated for a moment before grabbing the bag and slipping inside. As I put on the swimsuit, I realized something—the top needed to be tied at the back. I struggled, twisting my arms awkwardly, but it was no use.
Great.
“Mads, are you done?” His voice came from outside.
I huffed. “Uh… kind of?”
I cracked the door open and peeked out. He raised a brow. “Kind of?”
I sighed. “The straps… I can’t tie them properly.”
For a second, he just looked at me, then smirked. “Turn around.”
I stepped out of the bathroom hesitantly, my back facing him. He moved closer, and suddenly, I felt his fingers brushing against my skin as he grabbed the straps.
My breath hitched.
In the mirror, I could see our reflection—him standing behind me, his focus on tying the strings, his expression unreadable. Meanwhile, I was doing everything I could to keep my face neutral, but my heart was doing somersaults.
“Why are you so tense?” he asked, amused.
“I’m not,” I lied.
He chuckled, finishing the knot with ease. “There. All set.”
I glanced at the mirror again, and for a split second, our eyes met through the reflection. Something about it made my stomach flip.
His smirk deepened. “You’re blushing again.”
I scoffed, stepping away quickly. “You’re imagining things.”
“If you say so.” His tone was playful, but I could tell he was enjoying this way too much.
I turned to face him, crossing my arms. “Well? Are we going or not?”
He tilted his head slightly, pretending to think. “Now that I look at you… the swimsuit suits you.”
I rolled my eyes. “Are you done?”
“Almost.” He reached out and flicked my forehead lightly. “Now I’m done.”
I swatted his hand away, ignoring the way my heart was still racing.
The pool was bigger than I expected, its crystal-clear water shimmering under the afternoon sun. I stood at the edge, gripping my towel tightly, my heartbeat quickening.
“Alright, let’s go,” he said beside me, already stepping toward the water.
I didn’t move.
He turned his head, noticing my hesitation. “What’s wrong?”
I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening around the fabric of my towel. “I… I don’t know how to swim.”
He tilted his head. “That’s okay. I can teach you.”
I hesitated before exhaling sharply. “No, I mean… I’m terrified of it.”
His playful expression faded slightly. “Why?”
I looked away, staring at the rippling water. “When I was seven… I drowned.”
His brows furrowed.
“I don’t remember much,” I continued, my voice quieter. “Just the panic. The feeling of sinking. The way I couldn’t breathe. Ever since then, just the thought of swimming makes me uneasy.”
For a moment, he didn’t say anything.
Then, after a beat, he reached out and grabbed my hand.
I turned to him, startled.
“Look at me,” he said, his voice steady.
I did.
“Although you’re still my baby however You’re not seven anymore” he said, his fingers wrapping gently around mine. “And you’re not alone this time.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. His grip was firm—reassuring.
Slowly, he led me toward the water. I took careful steps, my breath catching as I felt the coolness against my skin. The moment we reached the five-foot depth, my body tensed, memories flashing in my mind.
He noticed.
“Hey,” he said, squeezing my hand. “Don’t think about that. Just focus on me.”
I tried. But my breathing was uneven.
He sighed dramatically. “Okay, let’s try this—what’s the atomic number of oxygen?”
I blinked. “What?”
“Come on, you just studied this.”
“Eight,” I mumbled.
He grinned. “Good. Now, tell me… what’s my favorite thing to eat for breakfast?”
I frowned. “Pancakes?”
He gasped. “Wow. You don’t even know me.”
I stared at him. “Is it not pancakes?”
He laughed. “It is. I just wanted to mess with you.”
I exhaled, shaking my head—but the tension in my shoulders had eased.
“There you go,” he said, satisfied. “Now, let’s start slow. I’ll show you the basic strokes, and we’ll work on your breathing, okay?”
I hesitated, then nodded. “Okay.”
And so, he started teaching me—showing me how to move my arms, how to kick, how to hold my breath underwater. He never let go of my hand for too long, always staying close, always making sure I was okay.
And for the first time in years… the water didn’t feel as scary anymore.
After Swimming
After drying off and changing back into our clothes, I expected him to head back to the hotel.
Instead, he turned to me and said, “Come on. Let’s go to the mall.”
I raised a brow. “Why?”
He stretched his arms lazily. “We need to buy something important.”
I frowned. “Like what?”
“Goggles.”
I stared at him. “Goggles?”
He nodded, smirking. “Yeah. Because we’re swimming again tomorrow.”
My jaw dropped. “Wait—what?”
“You’re learning, Mads. No backing out now.”
I groaned, but deep down, I couldn’t stop the small smile forming on my lips.
Maybe swimming wasn’t so bad after all.
- Writer
