Finn found himself laughing until his sides hurt, partly at River's description of intestinal defense mechanisms, but mostly at the way River's whole face lit up when he talked about his work.
“You're kind of amazing, you know that?” Finn said without thinking, then immediately wanted to sink into the couch cushions.
River went still, coffee mug halfway to his lips. “Yeah?”
“I mean...” Finn felt his face burning. “Your passion for your work. The way you explain things like they're the most fascinating discoveries in the world. You make tide pools sound like magical kingdoms.”
“They are magical kingdoms,” River said seriously. “Most people think I'm a marine biology nerd who needs to get out more.”
“Well, you are a marine biology nerd,” Finn said. “But that's not a bad thing. It's actually really attractive.”
The words hung between them, loaded with more meaning than Finn had intended. River set down his coffee mug and turned to face him fully, green eyes intense with something that made Finn's pulse quicken.
“Finn,” he started, then seemed to lose whatever he was going to say.
“Yeah?”
“This is going to sound crazy, but... does this feel familiar to you? Not just attraction, but like... like we've done this before?”
Finn's heart stopped, then started beating double-time. “What do you mean?”
“I mean sitting here, talking like this. You knowing where things are in my kitchen. The way we communicate—it's like we've been having conversations for years instead of days.” River ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated with himself. “I sound insane.”
“You don't sound insane,” Finn said quietly. “It does feel familiar. All of it. Like I've been here before, like I know you better than I should after a few days.”
They looked at each other for a long moment, the lighthouse beam sweeping through windows and painting moving shadows across their faces. Something significant was happening, something that felt bigger than attraction or coincidence.
“That's probably impossible,” River said finally.
“Probably,” Finn agreed. “But impossible things have been happening to me a lot lately.”
River's eyebrows went up with obvious interest. “What kind of impossible things?”
Finn hesitated, then decided to trust the warmth in River's eyes. “Memory gaps. Finding work completed that I don't remember doing. Knowledge I shouldn't have.” He gestured around the cottage. “Knowing where you keep your coffee mugs.”
“That's...” River was quiet for a moment. “That's actually not as crazy as it sounds. The letter you wrote but don't remember writing? It knew things about me that no one should know. Personal details, professional routines, even family history.”
“What are you saying?”
“I don't know what I'm saying,” River admitted. “But maybe we don't have to figure it out right now. Maybe we can just... see what happens.”
Finn felt something loosen in his chest, some knot of fear and confusion that had been tightening for days. “I'd like that. Seeing what happens.”
“Good,” River said, and his smile was soft and real and made Finn feel like maybe impossible things weren't always bad things. “Because I really don't want this to end.”
The lighthouse beam swept through the windows again, and Finn realized they'd been sitting there talking for hours without noticing time passing. The cottage felt like a bubble outside the normal world, a place where mysterious knowledge and inexplicable familiarity could coexist with the simple pleasure of good conversation and growing attraction.
“River?” Finn said softly.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you. For today, for sharing your work, for not thinking I'm completely insane when I say impossible things are happening to me.”
“Thank you for listening like my work actually matters. For asking questions that show you're really paying attention.” River's smile turned slightly self-conscious. “And for not running away when I get overexcited about marine biology.”
As evening settled around them and the lighthouse began its nightly rhythm, Finn thought maybe River was right. Maybe they didn't need to understand everything immediately. Maybe some mysteries were worth living with if they brought you to the right person.
Even if that person made your heart race and your rational mind panic and your entire understanding of reality feel like it was built on shifting sand.
