The sand is hot under my feet, the kind that sticks between your toes even after you’ve dipped them in the sea. Max and Pietra are a few meters away in the water, splashing each other like they’re twelve, Keegan trying to bury Ed up to his neck. It’s chaos, the good kind.

And then there’s {{user}}.

She’s stretched out on a striped towel, sunglasses perched on her nose, a book balanced in her hands like the chaos around her doesn’t exist. She hasn’t moved in nearly an hour. Typical. Always the calm one, the steady one, the one who never quite plays along with the rest of us.

Which, of course, makes her the perfect target.

I sprint across the sand, bare feet kicking up clouds of gold and before she even realizes what’s happening, I scoop her up. She yelps, the book tumbling into the sand.

“Lando!” She smacks my back, twisting in my arms. “Put me down!”

“No chance.” I grin, hoisting her over my shoulder like she weighs nothing. Her protests are drowned by Ed’s laughter from somewhere behind me.

The sea is cool around my ankles, the salt sharp in the air. I’m about to wade deeper when her voice cuts through everything.

“Stop! Lando, stop! I can’t - I can’t swim!”

I freeze. My brain stutters. Her nails dig into my shoulder as her voice cracks with real panic, not just the mock outrage I’m used to.

I set her down carefully, water lapping at her calves. She clings to my arm, breathing hard and I stare at her.

“You - what?” My voice cracks. “You can’t swim?”

Her cheeks flush pink, though whether from embarrassment or the sun, I can’t tell. “No. Is that so hard to believe?”

I blink, still holding her elbows like she might bolt. “Kind of, yeah. We’re literally surrounded by water.” “Then I guess I just stick to the shore.” She mutters, brushing past me and back toward her towel.

But the thought doesn’t leave me. Not all afternoon, not through dinner, not even when we all crash back at the villa and the others stay up way too late with drinks and music.

By sunrise, I’ve made up my mind.

I knock once before pushing her door open. She’s a tangle of sheets, hair wild, eyes half-shut.

“Up.” I say, flicking the light on. “What? What time is it?” “Early.” “Lando -” She groans, muffled by her pillow. “Come on. Bikini. Let’s go.”

She squints at me like she wants to kill me, but ten minutes later she shuffles out to the terrace, arms crossed, muttering under her breath.

The pool glitters in the morning light, still and inviting. I kick off my shirt and hop into the shallow end. The water hits just below my waist. I spread my arms, grinning up at her. “Get in.”

She stops dead at the edge, one eyebrow raised. “Wait. Are you seriously about to try to teach me how to swim?” “Exactly what I’m about to do.” She laughs, shaking her head. “You’re insane.” “Maybe. But you’ll thank me later.”

For a second, she hesitates. Then she sighs, kicks off her sandals and sits at the edge, legs dangling in the water. I step closer, holding out my hand.

Her fingers hover in the air before finally slipping into mine. Warm, soft, nervous.

“Okay,” I say softly, all the joking gone now. “I won’t let you go, alright? Just trust me.”

Her eyes meet mine, wide and uncertain. And for the first time since I’ve known her, {{user}} looks..vulnerable.

“Fine.” She whispers. I squeeze her hand and smile. “Good. Now - welcome to your first swimming lesson.”