There’s a softness to the air tonight.

The kind that makes everything feel suspended - like the world is holding its breath. We’re somewhere along the coast, hours away from Monaco, but it doesn’t feel like a place that exists on any map. Just cliffs, the sea and a sky that looks painted by hand.

{{user}} stands a few feet ahead of me, barefoot on the edge of a stone path that leads down toward the beach. Her white dress moves with the wind, loose and weightless, like it belongs more to the breeze than to her body. The sun set a while ago, but the sky still glows in shades I don’t have words for. Blue, yes - but not any blue I’ve ever seen before.

Something closer to a dream.

She glances over her shoulder and I swear my heart stutters.

“Come on,” she says, a laugh tucked behind her voice. “Don’t just stand there.”

I follow her down the winding steps, our footsteps quiet. Below us, the sea whispers against the shore, lazy and slow, like it’s forgotten how to crash. The air tastes like salt and freedom. Like we could leave everything behind and the world wouldn’t even notice.

She reaches the sand before me, spinning once as her arms rise, her hair catching in the wind like silk. It’s not a grand moment. Not dramatic. But something about it knots my throat.

She’s beautiful.

But not the kind of beauty that tries. It’s just..there. In the way she moves. In how she smiles without asking the night for permission.

I step closer and she takes my hand.

Her fingers are cold from the wind, but her grip is steady. And suddenly it’s just us. The sea, the sky, her hand in mine.

“Do you ever think about disappearing?” She asks quietly.

I blink. “Disappearing?”

She nods. “Not forever. Just..slipping out of everything for a while. No cameras. No pressure. No one needing anything from you.”

I don’t answer right away. But God, yes. I think about it all the time.

So instead of pretending, I say, “Only every day.”

She smiles at that. A soft, knowing smile. Then she lets go of my hand and walks toward the water, letting the waves brush over her ankles. I watch her for a moment - how she closes her eyes and tilts her face toward the stars like she’s listening for something.

Maybe she is. And maybe the sky is actually speaking.

I walk toward her and wrap my arms around her waist from behind. She leans into me without hesitation, her back to my chest, her head against my shoulder.

Everything goes quiet.

Just the tide. Just the breeze. Just her heartbeat pulsing steady where my hands rest against her ribs.

“What do you hear?” I murmur against her skin.

She exhales slowly. “I hear your heart..and mine answering it.”

My throat tightens and I press a kiss behind her ear.

We don’t say anything else.

Because sometimes the world doesn’t need more words. Sometimes it’s enough to believe that somewhere above us, the sky really is Caribbean blue.