Another drabble from the last summer files. I wrote this while watching the waves on an overcast day with someone I love. I can still smell the salt air when I open this document. It's only 412 words but anything more would be redundant I think.

Mika watches the waves. Kurda watches Mika. It crosses Kurda's mind that Mika hasn't said a word since they sat down here, on the ratty old blanket they'd laid over a flat rock close to the water. As if all of Mika's attention has floated out to sea.

Kurda steals it back with a kiss on the cheek.

"What are you thinking about?" Kurda asks. It's not an interrogation and he doesn't care if Mika answers honestly. He's not entitled to Mika's raw internal commentary, nor is Mika to his.

But Kurda still worries sometimes. He can't turn that off. He doesn't know if he should turn it off. It's still early. Life is soft now, but it was hard for so long — not so long ago.

Kurda watches as the corner of Mika's mouth curves up into a smile. Mika casts him a sideways glance and answers,

"Nothing at all."

"No? Not a single thought rattling around up there?" Kurda chuckles. He runs a hand playfully through Mika's hair. It's not quite damp but not quite dry either. The misty salt air gives it a hint of curl. More of a loose wave, really. Like the ones lapping the rocks in front of them.

The fog is rolling in all around. They still have a clear view of their harbour and the half-dozen fishing boats bobbing within it, but not much beyond that. This is their favourite kind of day. A day fit for a vampire to walk in the sunlight — because there isn't any. And they'll have ample time to make themselves scarce if the sun changes its mind and peeks through the blanket of fog.

But they won't worry about that til they have to. There's nothing to worry about these days, as Kurda still reminds himself every now and then. He knows Mika does the same.

Mika exhales a soft breath of laughter, but he holds Kurda's gaze because he knows exactly why Kurda's asking.

"Absolutely nothing." Mika replies. "I haven't had a thought since breakfast."

Kurda believes him. He grins back, and leans into Mika's body. He's not that cold — but probably should've worn a jacket. Mika is well aware of that. Coincidentally, Mika's wearing a jacket.

Mika peels the jacket off and drapes it around Kurda, then pulls him closer to keep both of them warmer. Kurda rests his head on Mika's shoulder. They sit like that for ages; not a single thought between them.