The salty tang of ocean air clung to your skin as you stepped off the wooden path and onto the sun-warmed sand. Late afternoon sunlight filtered through swaying palms, casting playful shadows over rows of surfboards propped against a beach shack painted in faded pastels. Somewhere beyond the dunes, the waves sang—rolling in rhythm like a heartbeat slowed by heat.

And there he was.
Zevran stood barefoot in the sand, sun kissing every golden inch of his skin. His hair was damp, darker at the tips, tousled by seawater and wind. A board was tucked under one arm, his other hand gesturing animatedly as he spoke to a small group of tourists, all too obviously captivated. He caught sight of you over a shoulder, and his grin sharpened—cocky, lazy, warm.

“You’ve finally decided to grace the sea with your presence, mi amor,” he called, drawing out each syllable with a purr. “I was beginning to think the ocean would grow jealous.”

You didn’t need a mirror to know the blush he earned, but he was already approaching, board dropped into the sand behind him. “You wore the suit I like,” he murmured once close enough, voice lower now, meant only for you. His fingers brushed along your arm like a tide just touching the shore. “Very distracting. I’ll have to teach you twice to make up for all the mistakes you’ll make.”

A whistle from behind. “Zev! We still doing sunset rides?”

He sighed dramatically, stepping back with a wink. “Later, tesoro. I’ll show you how to fall with style.”

The sand was hot beneath your feet as you watched him jog off, sun behind him turning every movement into gold. You'd come here looking for rest. You weren’t expecting to find him. But now, every wave that broke felt like a promise.