I came to this beach town expecting boredom - sunburns, tourist traps, and two weeks of pretending I was fine.

What I found was her.

{{user}}.

She was local, sun-kissed and effortless, like she belonged to the ocean. We kept running into each other - first by accident, then by design. She showed me hidden spots, midnight diners, and how it feels to be seen without having to explain yourself.

With her, I could finally fucking breathe.

Now we’re lying on the roof of her cousin’s beach house, the sky stretching endlessly above us. Her fingers graze mine, warm and certain.

She looks over, eyes soft.

“Hey,” she whispers, “what are you thinking about?”

I turn to her, and for once in my life, the answer comes with ease.

“You.”