[ something about this woman means he cannot look away - his eyes wandering to her face, to her wide and magical eyes. he's certain that someone will come over and tell him he's speaking to himself, a mirage, an illusion for the way she speaks. ]

The sea is beautiful. I'm sorry we don't have one here.

[ and he can still hear the roar of the waves, the rush of the spray, the creak and lilt of a boat in the wind. but he feels a pressure in his mind again, warm and strange and close. the deep brown of his eyes shifts, faintly, turning honeyed and golden. it coaxes something in him that makes his heart flutter, makes the whole world feel sharper and real and - ]

What...

[ his voice goes quiet, awed. his skin feels like it tingles, like the world around him has blown wide open. ]

How did you do that?

[ foolish that he doesn't realize it's his own magic, that the light in his eyes open doors even he hadn't realized he could see. there's a shimmer on the air - faint, blink and you might miss it - but he seems ignorant to it, eyes instead on her. ]

I can see all the possibilities in the world. [ where things are, where they're going, where they might be. ]