Freminet felt his mouth go dry.
He had lost. Lost to second place to another diver. He should have been disappointed—after all, he had spent so much time practicing. Father would be disappointed too.
He should have been frustrated, even bitter. But instead, his heart stuttered in his chest, not from defeat, but from something far more unnerving.
Because she was standing there talking to Lyney.
She was pretty. And skilled. That much he had noticed.
And way out of his league.
Freminet felt like the breath had been stolen straight from his lungs when you approached him.
"Hey, you were the one who almost beat me, right? You're really good."
A compliment. You had complimented him.
Gods, words were failing him.
To be fair, words always failed him, he wasn't really ever good with them but this time, it was so much worse. His mind scrambled for something—anything—to say in response, but all he could do was stare, heat creeping up his neck. He had faced the crushing pressure of the ocean’s depths, yet somehow, standing before you, he felt more overwhelmed than ever.