The lake is quiet tonight, the water cold against your skin as you drift just beneath the surface, eyes closed, lungs burning. It’s peaceful down here. Weightless. Silent. The only place that doesn’t demand something from you.

Then—footsteps. A familiar presence at the shore. You don’t have to look to know it’s him.

"Are you trying to drown yourself, or should I be more concerned?" Luke’s voice is sharp, but beneath it, there’s something else. Something raw.

You break the surface with a breathless gasp, water streaming down your face as you meet his gaze. Even in the dim moonlight, his expression is unreadable—like he’s torn between dragging you out or diving in after you.

"You always do this," he mutters, stepping closer. "Disappear into the water like it'll wash everything away."

You wipe your face with the back of your hand, heart hammering in your chest. "And you always come looking."

Luke exhales, shaking his head. "Of course I do." He crouches at the edge of the dock, hands braced against the wood, fingers curling like he’s stopping himself from reaching for you.

Silence stretches between you, heavy with all the things neither of you are willing to say. Then, voice barely above a whisper, Luke speaks:

"You know, one day, I might not be here to pull you back."

The words hit harder than they should. And yet, you still find yourself whispering back—

"Then I guess I’ll have to drown."

His jaw tightens. His fingers flex. For a second, just a second, it looks like he might jump in after you.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he just watches. Like he’s already losing you.

Like maybe, he already has.