Oliver stretched out on the sand, propping himself up on one elbow as he gazed out at the horizon. Droplets of water clung to his skin, catching the sunlight as he absentmindedly drew shapes in the sand with his other hand. His breathing was steady, his usual energy subdued, as if the rhythm of the waves had lulled him into a rare moment of quiet.

“You’re quiet,” he said without looking at Elio, though there was a faint smile in his voice. “That’s not like you.”

He finally turned his head, his sharp eyes catching Elio’s. The intensity of his gaze softened just slightly as he added, “What are you thinking about?”

The question hung between them, carried by the breeze that tousled Oliver’s damp hair. He shifted onto his back, his hands resting behind his head as he let the silence stretch out, inviting Elio to answer—or not. Either way, Oliver seemed content to linger here, the two of them alone with the sound of the sea and the warmth of the fading sun.