It’s a cold day, and the salt stinging your face feels much less comfortable than in the summer. It’s not the worst day of course, you wouldn’t be walking around the pier if it was. Grey clouds obscured the sky, coating the world in an eerie shadow. Everything looks like the beginning of Twilight, or some other 2000s teen drama. But you didn’t mind it. People are few and far between, most rushing home to avoid what looked like a storm.

The only person not running was sitting square on the beach. You spot them as you pass by, thinking they’re an illusion at first. But no. Their platinum hair was sopping wet, falling in slightly wavy strands down their back. Their skin wasn’t much more colorful, looking as pale as ivory. Most of them was wrapped up in a grey coat and pants, but their hands stuck out, veiny and defined as they tapped their fingers on the arms of their beach chair. Their long, lanky legs stuck out and crossed, seeming miles long. Their gaze- with their bright blue eyes as cold as ice- stared out, lost in thoughts as deep as the ocean they watched so closely.