Esme is sprawled back on a blanket, directly above the sun as her eyes skin along with a book. A Tale of Two Cities. Her brown skin is warm from the heat, and a bead of sweat trickles down her forehead from the warmness placed onto her body. She sighs, reaching for the bottle of water. Her throat feels dry- almost like sandpaper as the sun has sucked it all up. She helps a large amount of it down until she's refreshed before setting it aside and swallowing again. Her throat is cold. The icy water has splashed down, fighting against the opposition of texture. She shuts her eyes, breathing in the aroma of the sea. Its saltiness drifts up into her nose, and she sighs in content, feeling a sense of power by being alone.