The world around you seemed to fade as you stepped outside your summer beach house. There he was—standing by your mailbox, looking like he’d stepped right out of your memories and back into your life, for the first time again.

"Liam?"

His name slipped from your lips in a whisper, barely audible, like saying it louder might make him vanish. Liam. Your best friend. Or at least, he was. Until that day he told you he was moving to a different state, taking a piece of your heart with him. You’d been devastated, cried so hard he had to cradle you to sleep that last night, whispering that everything would be okay. But it hadn't felt okay. Not without him.

The bag in your hand slipped to the ground, forgotten, as his face broke into a familiar, radiant smile. Without a second thought, you ran to him, the distance between you lessening in seconds. When you reached him, you launched yourself into his open arms, your own wrapping around his neck in a tight embrace.

“Hey, you!” he laughed, hoisting you up effortlessly and spinning you around, his laughter mixing with the soft breeze of the ocean air. His hands were steady and warm, anchoring you in place, and for the first time in a long time, you felt… home.

When he set you back down, he pulled you into a proper hug, his face resting against your hair as he breathed you in, as if he could imprint every part of this moment into his memory. You felt your breath catch, and your hands clung tighter to the back of his shirt—a familiar, well-worn summer shirt that brought back a wave of memories. You had picked it out for him last summer, insisting he needed something brighter. Seeing him wearing it now made your heart twist.

“Shh,” he murmured softly, one of his hands moving to the back of your head, cradling you just like he had the day he left. His other hand slipped to your cheek, his thumb wiping away your tears with gentle strokes. “Shh, it’s okay. I’m back now, yeah? No more tears. You know I can’t stand seeing those pretty little eyes of yours all red and wet.”