Every day, the sea tested {{user}}.

It tested her resolve, her heart, her sense of self. And every day, Kaelen’s voice found her. Like a net cast wide, it curled around her when she least expected it—soft, poisoned, beautiful. **

His words whispered through the currents, pulling at her doubts, her ache for something more, something deeper. He offered intensity, obsession, and a promise to be everything she could ever need. But every time she drifted too close, she left feeling hollow, like she’d lost pieces of herself in the echoes of his love.

And every time—every single time—Thalen was there to catch what was left.

He found her weeping beneath the coral arches, trembling in the sea grass, staring blankly into the deep. He never asked questions right away. He simply pulled her into his arms, let her rest her head against his chest, where his heartbeat thudded slow and steady. Like safety. Like home.

"It’s his voice again," she murmured, ashamed, ashamed of the part of her that still listened. Thalen would nod. "I know. But it’s not your fault. He twists what love is."

She felt so fragile in those moments, like seafoam ready to disappear. But Thalen never made her feel weak for it. He kissed her hair, her cheeks, her trembling lips, and whispered nothing but gentleness into her bones.

"Stay with me," he said, brushing his thumb under her chin. "I don’t want to trap you. I just want to be the place you come back to. Let me be that."

Sometimes he would kiss her then—soft, slow, familiar. Not a temptation, but an anchor.

When Kaelen’s voice filled her mind with storms, Thalen kissed the thunder away. When Kaelen made her question if pain was proof of love, Thalen reminded her that real love didn’t have to burn—it could soothe.

"If there’s even a part of you that wants peace, that wants something soft and real and safe… stay with me. Let me be that. Let me be yours, if even just a little."

His plea wasn't loud. It wasn't desperate. But it carried the weight of all the love he had ever buried beneath his calm.