The small boat rocked gently, the waves bobbing it up and down.

You stare across the boat at your boyfriend—also known as the best fisher in town. After you got together, you confessed sheepishly that you didn’t have the faintest idea how to fish. He was floored and insisted on teaching you immediately.

So, here you were. Only one hour into twelve promised hours of fishing. Well, the things you do for love. And the soft, proud look he gives you whenever you do the tiniest thing right is nice too.

“This ’ere is the bait. Personally, I use live.”

He says gruffly, gesturing toward a weathered old box filled with squirming bait. You nod slowly, trying not to look too uncertain.

He demonstrates putting it on the hook— quiet, and in his element. He’s clearly elated to be sharing this with you. You can’t help but smile too, proud of him and in awe of his quiet focus.

“See, ’s not hard, really. How about you try?”

He says, gently handing you a hook, his rough hands warm as they settle over yours to guide the motion.