Beach Walk

Mayra smirked at Peter as he struggled to answer her question.

"I don't know what you're talking about," He finally said.

"Exactly what I meant. You've been watching me like I should be under arrest or something. What have I done? Did Riley tell you to keep an even closer eye on me?" She challenged.

"I can't imagine you being arrested, except… do they have laws about excessive sarcasm here?" He widened his eyes in mock concern.

"They don't. I checked," She replied, and tossed her loose hair so that droplets flew at him.

He didn't flinch, which seemed to surprise her a little. He was mesmerized.

"Seriously, Peter, what's going on? You've been off lately." She poked at him and began strolling down the beach after the others. She'd come barefoot, as was the Cetoan way, and visibly enjoyed the feel of the sand beneath her feet. "Is it because I ran off yesterday? I'm sorry about that."

"I'm fine," He said as he took up a leisurely pace beside her. "I wanted… to say sorry, for telling you to grow up, yesterday. I was just now thinking about how much you have grown up."

"Have I really?" Mayra asked, putting her hand atop her head and trying to measure her height against Peter's impressive stature and frowning.

"Matured, I mean." Peter smiled at her antics.

"If I've matured as much as you've grown, I must be as wise as a sage," She laughed, and he joined her. They walked in silence for a minute or two, the calming breeze and sound of the waves soothing them both.

"Do you forgive me?" He asked.

"If you forgive me for being childish, I'll forgive you for calling me childish." She offered her hand, and he shook it in agreement. He allowed his fingers to linger around hers a second longer than necessary for the gesture, but she didn't seem to notice. 

"Agreed," He smiled at her.

"So you admit I was being childish?" She teased.

"This is a trap and I refuse to enter it," Peter's military training had pressed into him the importance of not engaging when you cannot win. History had taught him that he could not win against Mayra's baited questions.

"I'll take that as a yes," Mayra grinned.

"I gave no answer," He replied.

"No answer counts as an answer when one would get you in trouble and the other wouldn't."

"You're doing that thing again," Peter sighed.

"What thing? What am I doing?"

"Trying to get me in trouble. I refuse to be in trouble. I have repented of my wrongdoing and now am free of your verbal snares."

"Well that's no fun, is it?" She pouted.

"Fun?" He raised his eyebrows at her. "Fun for whom?"

"Well, me, mostly," Mayra admitted, "but you might have some fun trying to get back out of trouble again."

"That seems unlikely." Peter deadpanned.

"You getting out of trouble? I agree. Having fun trying? You never know!" She chirped, and he chuckled, and they walked in silence for a while. "Are you coming to the feast tonight?"

"Depends. Are you going to be able to fend off all your suitors by yourself?" He gave her a sidelong glance.

"They're not MY suitors, they're here for the Rhone brides." Mayra responded.

"I'm still not convinced they know that." Peter said. "And I'm told more men are coming from other settlements further over on the coast. I don't know if they'll arrive today, but you may have quite the task on your hands reminding them you're not available. You need to be careful."

"Hmph." Mayra replied. "Ashley's much prettier than I am, did you give her the same speech?"

"Of course not. She's married, and Riley will fight off anyone who looks at her sideways." Peter rolled his eyes.

"I'll glide past the part where you just admitted she's prettier–"

"I never said that, and why would you care if I did?"

"--and move on to my question." Mayra ignored his interjection.

"Which is?" He waited, staring at her.

"You'll stop lecturing me if I just get married? That's all it takes?" She stopped to look at him innocently.

He looked into her eyes. She was obviously bluffing. There was no way she'd marry herself off to someone just to avoid his lectures. Still, it bothered him a little that the threat–and it did sound like a threat–would fall so easily from her lips.

"You wouldn't dare." Peter shook his head.

"Wouldn't I?" Her eyes lit up at the challenge.

"Come on, Mayra. What are you going to do, pick a man at random and marry him, just to get away from me?" His voice was colored by frustration.

"You heavily implied that I'll have plenty to choose from. Surely there's a suitable one amongst them." Mayra started walking again.

"Why does every conversation we have turn into an argument?" Peter rubbed his hand across his face.

"Are we arguing? I thought we were just negotiating the cessation of your lectures." She shot back sarcastically.

"As long as you'll stop the jokes about marrying a random Cetoan man."

"Would it bother you if I did? It's not really any of your business." Mayra said.

"Mayra, please–" He caught her hand and stopped her progress down the beach. "Look at me."

She tossed her hair and looked haughtily up into his face. He paused, frowning.

"I don't want to fight with you, at least, not about this," He had to admit that he enjoyed the way her eyes flashed at him when she was geared up for a verbal spar. "Can we talk, like… like friends?"

"We are friends," Mayra said, but her gaze had drifted to where his hand still held hers.

"I started off this conversation by apologizing, but we're already at odds again." He sighed. "How did that happen?"

"It happened because you're trying to manage my life," Mayra accused.

"I don't want to do that at all, I just want to keep you safe." Peter said.

"And away from all the suitors." She continued his sentence.

"I–" He began, but could formulate no real argument. "Yes."

"I've got it!" She said, "Riley put you up to this. He told you to pretend to be jealous so that I would pay more attention to you than to the Cetoan men. He's afraid I'll carry on with one of them and move far from home. I'm right, aren't I?"

Peter was flabbergasted, then unaccountably humbled by her words. He was jealous! How had she figured out what he was feeling before he did? 

"I'm not pretending anything, and Riley didn't put me up to a single thing." His words were soft, but firm.

"You're not pretending anything?" Mayra said with a mixture of skepticism and something else.

"No." Peter said.

"Did you… just admit that you're jealous?" She asked. She'd used the phrasing several times to tease him and trap him into saying things he hadn't. For the first time, she seemed to want an honest answer out of him, but also looked a little afraid that he would give one.

He swallowed nervously, but couldn't find it in himself to lie to her. 

"Yes."

"Oh." She didn't know what else to say. It was a rare thing for her to be without words.

Peter watched her face as she sorted out her thoughts, but noted with a small amount of pleasure that she still didn't pull her hand away from his.

"I'm sorry," He said after a moment. "We've been friends for a long time, and now I've gone and made it awkward."

"You've always been awkward," Mayra found her voice again, "That's why it's so fun to tease you."

"You make me sound like a plaything," Peter noted without judgment. Would she discard him when her fun was over?

"My favorite playmate," she corrected, and her eyebrows knit together in sudden concern. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Don't beat yourself up over it, I've probably done it to myself," He began to pull his hand away, but she held onto it.

"Peter–"

"You'd better let me go now. Your suitors might get the wrong idea if anybody sees you holding my hand." He interrupted her.

"Let them get the wrong idea, I don't want any of them." She said flippantly.

"If you truly don't want to hurt me, don't let me get the wrong idea either." He tugged again and this time she released his hand. He felt the pang of it hit him in the gut.

"I don't know what the right idea is," She admitted.

"Don't be in any rush to find out," He tried to smile. "I'll be around."

"You mean…" Mayra looked at him. All of this was new and she had no idea what to do with any of it.

"I mean, we can go on like normal. Friends, playmates, verbal sparring partners, whatever it is we are," he grinned slightly at the last one, "Only, we both know where I stand. Don't worry, it was as much news to me as it was to you just now."

"So what changes?" She asked, her eyes full of anxiety for her friend.

"Nothing, I guess, unless we both want it to." He shrugged.