The night air was cool against her skin, carrying the sharp tang of salt from the ocean. {{user}} sat on the sand, knees hugged to her chest, staring at the waves, trying to untangle the heaviness of the week. She didn’t want to think, didn’t want to move—she just wanted the ocean and the quiet.

A soft shift in the sand made her glance up. There he was. Sebastian. Brown curls catching the moonlight, blue eyes steady, quiet strength radiating from him even in the stillness. He didn’t rush, didn’t call her name. He simply walked slowly toward her, reading her tension like he always had.

Without a word, he lowered himself onto the sand beside her, careful to give her space but close enough she could feel his presence. His hand rested loosely on his knee, fingers fidgeting slightly with the hem of his shirt—a tell she recognized instantly.

For a long moment, they just sat there, side by side, listening to the ocean. He didn’t speak; he didn’t try to fix anything. He simply was. And that presence alone—the quiet, steady weight of him—made her chest ache in a way only he could.

Finally, he let his voice slip out, low and tender.

“{{user}}…”

Her shoulders twitched. She didn’t answer. He didn’t push. He shifted just a little closer, just enough to let her know he was there, completely, without intruding.