Inspired by “Summertime Sadness” — Lana Del Rey

That summer evening felt too quiet. The sky soft and orange, cicadas humming, wind warm against your skin. It should’ve been peaceful. But Mikey had been distant all day — eyes somewhere else, expression soft in a way that wasn’t like him. Finally, he sat beside you on the grass, knees touching yours, staring straight ahead instead of at you.

“I hate summer,” he said suddenly. You asked why. He swallowed, fists curling in the grass like he needed something to hold onto. “Because everything feels… temporary.” A beat. “And I don’t want you to be.” Your chest tightened. He never talked like this — not unless something was really, really bothering him.

He looked at you then, eyes shining with something raw. Fear. Hope. Love he didn’t know how to say. “Promise me you won’t just… disappear,” he whispered. “I don’t care if everyone else leaves.” His voice cracked, barely audible: “Just don’t let it be you.” He leaned his forehead against your shoulder. Warm. Soft. Fragile. And the summer didn’t feel so temporary anymore.