The moonlight danced across the surface of the pool, turning everything a soft silver-blue. The air was warm and thick with summer, the kind of night that hummed with crickets and the scent of jasmine drifting over from the garden. Somewhere inside her house, the kitchen light was still on, casting a faint glow through the sliding doors. But out here, they were in their own little world.

Patrick floated on his back in the deep end, arms lazily stretched out, eyes half-lidded. His best friend — his sunshine — was perched on the steps, legs in the water, kicking gently. They’d been talking for hours, about nothing and everything, voices low, laughter quiet. It had been easy — too easy — the way it always was with her.

Then, she slipped into the water.

Patrick’s eyes followed her as she glided toward him, quiet, graceful. His heart picked up in his chest, thudding like it knew something he didn’t. She stopped just in front of him, treading water, looking up at him with those bright eyes that always made him forget how to think straight.

“Why’re you staring at me like that?” she asked, soft.

Patrick didn’t answer right away.

He looked at her, really looked at her — the way her damp hair clung to her face, the way her collarbones shimmered in the moonlight, the way she was smiling like she had no idea what she did to him just by existing.

Then, barely above a whisper, he said, “You’re so beautiful.”

And that was it.

She slid forward, arms wrapping around his neck as she kissed him — desperate, aching, like she’d been waiting all her life for this moment. Her lips met his in a way that made his brain blank out, all thought gone except for her.

Patrick stumbled slightly in the water but caught himself, one arm circling her waist, the other pressing gently to the back of her head as he kissed her back with everything he’d never said out loud. The water rippled around them, soft and slow, the only witnesses to the way something between them had shifted.

Neither of them pulled away.

Not for a long, long time.