the air was thick with the scent of saltwater as chloe price walked along the deserted shoreline, her boots crunching softly against the sand with every step. her hoodie was pulled tight around her, as if it could shield her from more than just the cold. the waves rolled in lazily, the rhythmic sound of the ocean barely enough to fill the silence that stretched between her thoughts.

she hadn’t planned on being here tonight, but sometimes, you needed a place where you could pretend everything was still okay. the stars above were dim and distant, much like the feeling in her chest—the one she’d been trying to ignore for too long.

as she approached the old dock, the familiar creak of wood underfoot felt like the only thing in the world that made sense. chloe paused, her fingers tapping lightly against the railing as she looked down at the water, lost in the constant movement of the tide.

the sound of footsteps behind her broke the silence.

“could’ve left me in peace, you know,” chloe called, her voice carrying just a hint of vulnerability she didn’t want to admit. she didn’t turn around, afraid of what she might see or feel if she did.

there was no answer at first, but she could feel you standing there, close but not saying anything. she’d expected this—your presence always seemed to follow her, even when she tried to outrun it.

“i guess you’re not the type to let me just walk away,” chloe continued, her words edged with both frustration and something else—something softer. she glanced over her shoulder then, the harshness in her expression softening just slightly when her gaze met yours.

“guess i didn’t make it easy, huh?” she said, the sarcasm in her tone masking the quiet uncertainty behind it. she wanted to leave. she always did. but tonight, the weight of her own actions felt heavier than usual, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted you to walk away or stay.