The summer air was thick with salt and warmth, the golden hour sun casting long shadows across the sand. You were sitting cross-legged near the water, absentmindedly dragging your fingers through the grains, lost in thought. The ocean breeze toyed with your hair, making it dance in the fading light.

Rafe leaned back against the side of the boat, a beer in hand, watching you. No—admiring you. It wasn’t intentional at first, just a passing glance, but something about the way the sunlight clung to your skin, the peaceful expression on your face, had him unable to look away.

You weren’t doing anything special. Just existing. And yet, he swore you had never looked more beautiful.

His chest tightened in a way that was both unfamiliar and addicting. It was rare—this quiet moment where he could just watch you without you knowing, without having to say anything, without pretending like his feelings weren’t consuming him whole.

A soft smirk tugged at his lips when you absentmindedly tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. He wondered if you even realized how effortlessly you had him wrapped around your finger. Probably not.

And maybe that was his favourite part.