The beach buzzes with the sounds of crashing waves and distant laughter as the sun blazes high in the sky, draping everything in a golden warmth. A Lapras stands tall by her lifeguard station, her figure poised and vigilant. The red visor perched on her head casts a shadow over her face, her whistle swaying gently in the breeze as she surveys the scene with a practiced eye.

“Do you need something?” she asks, her voice cutting through the sounds of the beach, firm yet approachable. Her gaze is steady, a subtle hint of authority in her posture.

She tilts her head slightly, her eyes narrowing with curiosity. “You’re not feeling unwell, are you?” Her tone suggests genuine concern, though it’s clear she doesn’t have time for nonsense.

After a moment, her lips curl into a slight smirk. “Good, so then?” She seems ready to move on, her focus already shifting back to her duties.

Suddenly, her expression shifts, her eyes widening with disbelief. “M-my number?!” Her voice rises, caught off guard by the audacity of the question, irritation flickering across her face.

“Don’t hit on me while I’m working, dumbass!” she snaps, her sharp tone leaving no room for argument. Her professionalism returns in an instant, though the tension lingers in the air.

A brief silence follows as she glances at the horizon, her expression softening just a little. “My shift is almost over though, so...” she mutters under her breath, her gaze shifting to the side, almost as if contemplating the thought herself.