River found himself responding with enthusiasm that exceeded his normal educational outreach, excited by Finn's insightful questions and obvious fascination. He explained predator-prey relationships, symbiotic partnerships, the way different species had evolved to exploit distinct ecological niches within tidal pools' confined space.
“It's like book conservation,” Finn observed, drawing parallels that delighted River with their elegance. “Different materials require different treatments, but they all need to coexist in the same archival environment. Understanding the relationships between preservation techniques is just as important as mastering individual methods.”
River looked at Finn with growing appreciation, impressed by his ability to find connections between seemingly disparate fields. The parallel was sophisticated and accurate, demonstrating interdisciplinary thinking River rarely encountered outside academic conferences.
As they moved between different pools, River found himself watching Finn's face as much as the marine life itself. The way his eyes widened when River pointed out camouflaged species that seemed to materialize from apparently empty rock surfaces. The careful attention he paid to behavioral demonstrations, species interactions, the complex relationships that maintained ecological balance.
“This is extraordinary,” Finn said as they observed sea stars engaged in slow-motion predation of shellfish, their hunting behavior so gradual it was almost invisible. “The patience required for this kind of research must be incredible. Documenting behavioral patterns that unfold over hours or days rather than minutes.”
“Most people don't have the attention span for it,” River admitted. “They want immediate gratification, obvious action. But the real discoveries come from sustained observation, fromlearning to see patterns that only emerge over extended time periods.”
Finn nodded with understanding that felt deeper than simple intellectual appreciation. “Like restoration work. The most important changes happen slowly, through sustained attention rather than dramatic intervention. Learning to trust the process instead of forcing immediate results.”
River felt his chest warm with recognition for Finn's understanding. Here was someone who grasped not just the technical aspects of his work but its philosophical foundations, the patience and faith required to support natural healing processes.
The afternoon passed with surprising speed as they explored different sections of River's research area, conversation flowing between scientific observation and personal reflection. Finn asked questions that revealed genuine curiosity about marine ecology, but also shared insights about preservation that enriched River's understanding of his own work.
As the tide began turning and water levels started rising, River realized he was reluctant to end their exploration. The shared wonder and intellectual connection had created something that felt rare and precious, mutual understanding that made him feel less alone in his passion for environmental preservation.
“Thank you for sharing this,” Finn said as they carefully made their way back across the rocky coastline toward the cliff trail. “I feel like I've been given access to a secret world that most people never see.”
“Thank you for appreciating it,” River replied, meaning it more than any polite response should warrant. “It's not often I get to share this with someone who understands why it matters.”
As they climbed back toward the parking area, River found himself hoping for future opportunities to continuetheir exploration of both marine ecosystems and the growing connection between them. Finn's genuine fascination suggested possibilities for ongoing collaboration, for shared discoveries that would enrich both their understanding of preservation and their appreciation for each other's expertise.
The lighthouse beam began its evening rotation as they reached River's truck, steady rhythm reminding them of time's passage and the approaching end of their afternoon together. But the connection they'd forged while exploring hidden worlds felt like something that would endure beyond any single shared experience.
Chapter 5
Parallel Tides
Finn
Finn woke up grinning at his ceiling like an idiot, which was honestly embarrassing for a grown man who owned a bookshop and paid taxes. But there it was—pure, stupid excitement about spending the afternoon looking at tide pools with a guy he'd known for less than a week. His body was practically vibrating with anticipation.
“Get it together, Torres,” he muttered, rolling out of bed and immediately stubbing his toe on the nightstand. “Ow, shit. Great start.”
He hobbled to his closet, and here's where things got weird again. His hands went straight for old hiking boots and jeans with grass stains—clothes that screamed “I know what I'm doing outdoors” despite the fact that Finn's idea of adventure usually involved climbing stepladders.
But somehow, these felt right. Like his body had a plan his brain wasn't in on.
The hiking boots were worn in all the right places, which was strange because Finn couldn't remember the last time he'd beenhiking. Salt stains on the leather and treads worn smooth in patterns that suggested regular contact with wet rocks.
“When did I become an outdoorsy person?” he asked his reflection, which predictably had no answers.
The journal on his nightstand was open to more pages he definitely hadn't written, filled with notes about marine ecosystems that read like someone who actually knew what they were talking about.
Kelp restoration after environmental trauma requires understanding natural recovery cycles. You can't rush it—just like you can't rush repairing a water-damaged manuscript. The materials want to heal themselves. Observed significant recovery in sectors C-7 through C-12 over the past three months. The sea stars have returned in numbers that suggest ecosystem stability.
“Okay, that's actually pretty smart,” Finn said to his empty apartment. “Good job, mysterious sleep-writing Finn.”
He flipped through more pages, finding detailed sketches of marine creatures he'd apparently observed, notes about tidal patterns and water temperature variations, even weather observations that correlated with optimal diving conditions. The handwriting was definitely his, but the knowledge it represented seemed to come from months of careful study.
The panic was still there, lurking under his ribs. But today it felt more like anticipation than fear. Whatever was happening to his brain, it was bringing him knowledge instead of taking it away. And somehow, all of it seemed connected to River—whichshould have been terrifying but instead felt like the best kind of mystery.
The bookshop felt like it was moving in slow motion, every customer interaction dragging when all Finn wanted to do was fast-forward to three o'clock. Mrs. Patterson wandered in looking for her weekly romance novel, and while Finn helped her select something with pirates and proper amounts of swooning, she studied his face with the sharp attention of someone who'd known him since he was knee-high.
“You seem different today, dear,” she observed, accepting her book with obvious approval. “Positively glowing. Your mother had that same look sometimes—like she was living in two worlds at once, seeing connections the rest of us missed.”
