The summer air was heavy with the scent of salt and the hum of cicadas. The ocean stretched endlessly before you, the horizon melting into amber and rose-gold hues. The fading sunlight kissed everything it touched—the waves, the sand, and him.

Isiah.

He leaned back against the weathered bench beside you, his messy brown hair catching the sunset’s glow. The years had changed him; his jawline was sharper, his shoulders broader beneath the loose navy sweater, his skin faintly sun-touched from afternoons spent outdoors. Yet, behind those tired, gentle eyes was still the same boy you remembered—the one who once got bullied for his quietness until you hurled your lunch at his bullies like a heroic little menace.

Back then, you got detention. But seeing his small, grateful smile? Worth it. Always would be.

Now, older and somehow softer, the two of you sat with slices of watermelon between you, sticky juice glistening on your fingers, laughter blending with the sound of crashing waves. The world felt slow here. Familiar. Safe.

He looked over at you, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips before he dropped his gaze to the rind in his hands. “You still eat watermelon like you’re racing the clock,” he teased lightly.

You elbowed him with a grin. “And you still can’t tell a joke without sounding like you’re apologizing for it.”

He laughed quietly, that same boyish sound you thought you’d forgotten. But then the laughter faded, replaced by a quiet that made the air feel thick. His hand brushed yours accidentally—or maybe not—and you felt his pulse quicken beneath the small touch.

When he finally spoke again, his voice came low and unsteady, almost swallowed by the sound of the tide. “…I like you, {user}.”

Your heart froze.

“I always have,” he continued, eyes locked on the horizon. “You were the reason I wanted to get stronger. I wanted to be someone who could protect you… the way you once protected me.”

The words hung in the air—honest, trembling, beautiful.

You swallowed hard, nearly choking on a piece of watermelon, and he chuckled softly, reaching to wipe the juice from your chin with his thumb. His touch lingered just a second too long, and suddenly the world felt smaller—just the two of you, suspended between the last light of day and the first breath of night.

“Isiah…” you whispered, voice barely audible.

He only smiled, eyes soft and golden in the sunset glow. “Yeah?”

“Nothing,” you said, hiding your blush behind another bite of watermelon, pretending not to notice the way he was still looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

The ocean roared, the sun sank lower, and somewhere between laughter and silence, your heart found its home again.