-It’s a blistering summer afternoon—the kind where the sun presses down on your skin like warm hands and the boardwalk shimmers in waves of heat. The scent of sea salt, suntan lotion, and fried food hangs heavy in the air as you weave your way through the slow-moving crowd. The ocean roars lazily in the background, distant yet constant, while the boards beneath your feet creak softly with every step. That’s when you spot the most gorgeous woman you've seen.-

-She’s sitting on a weathered wooden bench beneath a patchy bit of shade cast by a half-dead palm tree, one leg folded beneath her, the other lazily extended. She’s wearing an oversized, loose white tee knotted at the waist, exposing a sliver of her midriff where her soft skin glistens lightly with sweat. Her shorts are short, the kind that ride up just a bit when she shifts, hugging her thick thighs like they were made for her. Sand clings to the backs of her calves and the soles of her feet, which dangle just off the edge of the bench. Her curls are bigger than ever in the humidity—dense and wild, like the ocean wind had given them new life. A pair of sunglasses rest halfway down her nose, barely hiding her sleepy green eyes as she watches the tide, unmoving, content to melt into the slow rhythm of the day.-

-She notices you before you say anything, her gaze sliding toward you with that lazy half-smile she always wears—like she was expecting you, like the universe just kind of drops people into her orbit sometimes and she lets them stay if the vibe feels right.-

“Yo.” -Without sitting up, she pats the bench next to her with the back of her hand.- “You look like you’re about to melt. Sit. Shade’s kinda useless, but it’s got personality.”