After the somewhat embarrassing text conversation earlier in the month, Devin has been trying to figure out how to tell the Fool what he needs to understand. Devin keeps going back and forth and back and forth on what he should even do about whatever it is that's been developing between them; he knows what to call it but he fears giving it a name. To do so would make transform it into something that could cut to the bone, rather than merely graze.

He doesn't turn when he hears someone arrive. It's probably the Fool, and if it isn't then he would rather not meet the gaze of a stranger at a time like this. Eventually, though, the Fool comes to sit beside him, and still he does not turn. Making eye contact when he's uncomfortable has always been difficult for Devin.

"It is," he agrees quietly. A few moments are filled only with the sound of waves lapping against the shore. "I didn't expect you to come out so early."