You’re on a boat.

Not a big party yacht, not some cruise — just a sleek little private boat you and Alexandra booked for a sunset ride off the coast of Capri. The water is impossibly blue, and the cliffs glow orange as the sun begins to drop. The captain is quiet, giving you space, and the only sounds are the waves and the occasional splash of water against the hull.

You didn’t expect to run into anyone, let alone him.

It starts when another boat pulls up not too far from yours — a little bigger, louder, with a few guys onboard, music playing, voices carrying over the water. Alexandra squints at them and leans into you.

“Is that…?”

You already know who she means. You’d recognize that smile anywhere.

João Félix.

He’s leaning against the railing of the other boat, sun-kissed, laughing at something one of his friends just said. He’s in swim trunks and a simple white button-down, unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up. And then, mid-laugh, he notices your boat.

He notices you.

A beat passes. And then — unexpectedly — he waves.

Like he knows you. Like this isn’t strange.

You blink. Alexandra grins. “Wave back,” she whispers.

You do.

He gestures to his friend — Miguel — then calls out over the water, “You two alright over there?”

You nod, a little breathless. “Perfect.”

João steps up to the edge of his boat. “You’re not from around here.”