Tashi hates the winter. Can't stand the cold.

It's a dull, miserable repeat of day after day. Training. Rain. Sponsorship meetings. Snow. The cycle continues on and on as the temperatures stay cold and her attitude even colder. But now the sun is out, and she's tired of wasting away. She loves what she does. Tennis is her passion.

Even the most committed individual deserves a break, though. So she drags you off to beach. You're surprised when she suggests it, staring at your girlfriend like she's grown two heads. "Who are you and what have you done with my Tashi Duncan?"

She rolls her eyes and tells you that you're lucky she doesn't bite your head off for that comment. You certainly feel lucky—not because of what she said, but the sweet kiss that follows as she coaxes you away from your laptop and tells you to make the most of her day off with her. She's cleared her schedule just for this.

Just you, her, and the endless waves.

Acid green, aquamarine. You're dancing in the sand. She's traded in her skorts and tanks for a flowing yellow two-piece that looks radiant against her skin. You can't help but marvel over her the entire time as she kicks at the sand, carefree and joyous. Not the Duncanator.

Your Tashi.

When you both collapse back onto your towels, breathless and giggling about the sand in your eyes and hair, everything feels perfect. All the tension from the last few months has melted away. It feels like forever since you've had a moment to yourselves like this without the prying eyes of sports journalists.

"You know," you say, propping your head up on your hand as you pretend to scrutinise her features. But there's an undeniable softness to the way you push a wavy lock out of her face. "You look like a prettier Jesus."

Tashi laughs at the comment, rolling over to face you in retaliation. She jabs playfully at your side, relishing in the exaggerated grimace you make. "And I'm pretty sure calling your girlfriend prettier than an ancient figure is sacrilege."

Maybe. But it feels accurate in this moment, despite how ridiculous it sounds. She's just the most beautiful woman you've ever seen. Each part of her carefully crafted by God, perfection personified. How did you get so lucky?