[For Claire]

[noonelaughed]

For all that Chris might complain to some people on the island that he's bored, he's not. Not really, anyway. There isn't fucking college to go or any place he's got to to be, and all he's got now is time. Time to explore or meet people or do whatever the fuck he wants. Being on the island means he's got time to think about all the things he never got to do back home, the things he won't get to do back home.

One such thing is something Chris has always wanted to do: he's always wanted to break a world record. Of course, he's not sure it even matters on the island, since it's in some other dimension or whatever, but to Chris, it does. He's found the book on the bookshelf, The Guinness Book of World Records and it's current enough that Chris feels like it's worth giving it a go.

He's on the beach now, in just swim pants and an oversized pair of sunglasses, preparing piles of sand. He's found a shovel in the compound-- not one of those fucking tiny shovels kids use when they're little, but a proper one-- and is more determined than he's been since he can remember.

Chris is going to build the world record biggest sand castle. Or, at least, the island's biggest sand castle. Either way, it's gonna be fucking mega.

Comments

[noonelaughed]

"I thought I was gonna be the only one doin' this," Chris confesses with a small shrug, because he's only got the one shovel, and the only others he knows of are up at the compound or near the garden or stables or something. He's not about to go all the way back up there when he's sure they can get by with the one.

"But you can take this one, if you want. Or maybe you can bring up some water?" He holds up the bucket he's got, an unsure look on his face. It's probably a bit more work at first than it sounded like when he told her what he was up to at first, but eventually, they'll get to the fun bit.

[regenerated]

Claire wants to point out that there's no way that he would have been alone for long. The impression that she always has of Chris Miles is that he's the type of personality that pulls together all the people around him, a charmer at best, and welcoming in a way that keeps people from being worried over bothering him or interrupting his plans. But she finds herself not really sure whether or not she wants to encourage him in such a way, fueled instead by a slightly selfish sentiment, one that wants to keep him to herself right now. Him, this experience, this moment that is perfect for how spontaneous it is.

Reaching out, she grabs the handle of the bucket, her hand brushing briefly over his hand as he passes it off. "You look like you've got better arms for the whole digging deal," she admits, casting them a brief glance. "And I'm not afraid of getting a little wet. I'll get the water."