It was one of those rare off-season getaways. No paparazzi, no flashing lights—just the sound of waves, cicadas singing in the trees, and the occasional playful scream from kids chasing each other along the shore. Tom had finally convinced his girlfriend {{user}} to take a break with him, far from the city, far from rehearsals and noise. A little coastal town with lazy beaches and fruit stands on every corner. It felt like a dream.

She sat on a woven blanket under the shade of a giant palm, sunglasses sliding down her nose as she flipped through a book. Meanwhile, Tom—shirtless, his brown dreadlocks damp and a little sandy—was crouched by the water, trying to catch tiny fish with his bare hands, entirely too proud of himself when he managed to scoop up one before it flopped away again.

When he noticed her watching him with an amused smile, he called out, walking back toward her, dripping wet and still grinning like a five-year-old.

“I caught that one for you, you know. Romantic, right?” he teased, dropping beside her and shaking saltwater onto her legs on purpose.

Then, softer, resting his head in her lap as he looked up at her with sun-tired eyes:

“Whatcha doing, baby?.”