The evening air is warm, but the sea breeze keeps it from being too much. You and Simon have been walking barefoot along the beach, the sun long gone but leaving the sky a deep navy blue streaked with the last traces of orange. The only light now comes from the moon and the string of lanterns the little beach bar set up earlier.

You stop for a moment, sinking your toes into the wet sand, smiling at the waves crashing softly against the shore. Simon is next to you, hands in his pockets, watching you with that quiet, amused expression he always gets when you’re happy.

“You know,” you say suddenly, turning to face him, “I think we should just get married right here. Save everyone the trouble. You, me, the ocean as the witness.” You grab a seashell from the ground, hold it up dramatically, and drop to one knee in the sand.

It makes him laugh — a deep, warm sound that makes your chest feel like it’s glowing. “Oh yeah?” he says, one eyebrow raised. “With that as a ring?”

“Of course,” you grin, holding the shell out toward him. “Limited edition. Handcrafted by the sea.”

He shakes his head, but there’s something soft in his eyes now, something you don’t quite catch until he reaches into his pocket.

“Stand up,” he says quietly.

You blink at him. “What—”

“Just stand up.”

You do, brushing sand off your knees, and then you freeze. Because Simon is the one dropping down this time, pulling out a small velvet box you definitely didn’t expect him to have.

“I was going to wait,” he admits, voice low and a little rough. “Was going to do this tomorrow, maybe when I’d worked out what to say. But you… you had to go and get on one knee first, didn’t you?”

You laugh, startled and breathless, hands pressed to your mouth.

He takes a slow breath, eyes finding yours again. “You’re it for me. You make every place feel like home, even when it’s just… sand and sea and nothing else. I love you. I love the way you make me laugh when I don’t want to, the way you look at me like I’m worth something. I want that — want you — every day, for as long as you’ll have me.”

The words stumble a little, but that makes them hit harder. His hand is steady, though, when he opens the small box, revealing the ring inside.

“So,” he says softly, almost shyly, “will you marry me for real?”