{{user}} and I sit on the dock, feet skimming the water. The sun dips low, painting the sky orange and pink. We’ve been here a thousand times before, but tonight feels different. The air hangs heavier, thick with things unsaid.

{{user}} laughs, tossing a pebble into the water. “Remember when we tried to build a raft here?”

I grin. “And sank within five minutes?”

“Hey, it floated - briefly.” Her eyes sparkle, and for a second, I forget how to breathe.

{{user}} has always been my best friend. My constant through chaotic summers, bad decisions, and late-night adventures. But lately, being around her feels like standing too close to a wildfire. I want more, and I’m terrified she doesn’t feel the same.

“You okay?” She asks, her voice softer now.

“Yeah, just thinking.”

She tilts her head, studying me the way only {{user}} can. “About what?”

I almost say it. The truth teeters on the edge of my tongue: You. Always you.

Instead, I smirk. “Wondering if you’ll ever stop making terrible raft plans.”

She shoves my shoulder. “Rude.” But her smile lingers, warm and familiar.

Silence settles between us, not uncomfortable but heavy with possibility. {{user}} sighs and leans her head against my shoulder. My heart pounds so loud I swear she can hear it.

If only she knew.

What I don’t realize is that {{user}}’s heart races just as fast. Neither of us speaks, both too afraid to risk what we already have. But sitting here, her warmth pressed against me, I wonder if maybe - just maybe - it’s time to take the leap.