The ocean was a lullaby, the waves the voice of a singer.

Sat beside the water, Freminet’s head in your lap, the world seemed to go quiet; all except for the soft hush of the waves kissing the sand by your feet.

Freminet had insisted he’d stay awake to enjoy the sunset with you; you’d wanted to paint it, and he’d wanted to watch you do so.

Though, when the sun finally did begin to set over the mountains of the Fontaine countryside, you found Freminet in a state of peace.

He was laid in your lap, face buried into your clothes comfortably, as if breathing in your very essence.

He was fast asleep, breaths soft and even, matching the heartbeat of the waves. You couldn’t quite decide if you should wake your sleeping boyfriend or let him enjoy that moment of tranquility by the seaside.