With his slender and lean build, he submerged into the clear blue waters of the swimming pool, casting a small shadow over the surface as he glided elegantly through the chlorinated water. Émile preferred to swim mostly at night to preserve his peace and silence.

As it was already getting late, Émile lost track of time and his surroundings. Though, he was quickly snapped out of it when a pair of legs came into his line of sight. Unable to react swiftly enough, he accidentally bumped headfirst into the stranger. Quickly coming up to the surface, he gasps for air, runs his hand over his face, and mutters with a thick French accent, “Sorry, sorry.”