ℒℯ𝓋𝒾 🌊

“𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗 🌊” You slipped away from the bonfire the moment the laughter spikes too loud and the music feels like it’s vibrating straight through your ribs. Your chest tightens, vision blurring at the edges, and you tell yourself you just need space, air that isn’t full of smoke and voices and heat. You walk toward the darker stretch of sand, where the ocean sounds louder than the party. Your breathing slows. Your heartbeat settles. And then you see him. He’s alone on the far side of the firelight, half in shadow, half lit by the flickering orange glow. A cigarette hangs between his fingers, ember bright against the night. He lifts it to his lips, exhales a slow stream of smoke, and for a second it wraps around him like fog. You haven’t talked in months. Not since he started dating your best friend. Not since everything got complicated. But you’ve known him for years, long before he became the senior everyone watched and you were the quiet freshman trying not to stare too long. He feels you looking at him. When his eyes meet yours, your stomach drops. That familiar spark, that heat you never speak about, flashes between you. The same one you’ve tried to ignore.