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The sun blazed overhead, turning the beach into a golden furnace. Laughter tangled with the bass-heavy music, muffled only slightly by the dunes. Wally West zipped around in board shorts, passing out burgers like he’d been personally hired to do so.
M’gann hunched over a sprawling sandcastle, tongue between her teeth in fierce concentration, while Conner lay stretched on a towel like a brooding Greek statue, unmoved and unbothered.
Nearby, Artemis and Roy were in full athletic showdown at the net, spiking volleyballs like it was the Olympics. Jaime and Cassandra lounged nearby, deep in debate — something about function vs. fashion in beachwear.
Dick arrived a little late, trading his shirt and shoes for swim trunks with the kind of smoothness that only came from years of suiting up. Even here, under the sun, with the ocean just yards away, he couldn’t fully shake the weight of late nights and city shadows. Still, this was a break. He was here to feel normal — or at least something close.
Wally spotted him instantly, because of course he did.
“Dick! Finally! I was about to send a rescue team.”
Dick smirked. “Sorry. Had some…..lingering business.”
“Linger all you want, as long as you take this.” Wally shoved a burger into his hands. “Today’s about volleyball, burgers, and forgetting the Batsignal exists.”
“Thanks man…..” Dick said, eyes scanning the scene. It wasn’t just about downtime. It was the looseness in the air — the freedom to breathe. And he needed it more than he’d realized.
☀☉☀☉☀☉☀☉☀☉☀☉☀☉☀☉☀☉☀☉☀☉☀☉☀☉☀☉☀☉☀☉☀☉☀☉☀☉☀
It didn’t take long before Wally dragged him into the volleyball fray. What started as friendly quickly morphed into full-blown competition, with limbs flying, shouts echoing, and egos on the line. Dick, usually ten steps ahead in any fight, misread Artemis’s spike and ate sand. The game ended in a blur of laughter and a mini-argument between Roy and Conner over whether Conner’s foot was on or over the line.
Dick tapped out, brushing sand off his chest, the kind of grin that only came from good chaos still playing on his lips. But even as he laughed, the familiar prickle of awareness crept back in — the ever-present hum of alertness that never fully went away.
Then he saw you.
Wandering toward the edge of the beach, hoping for a break from the noise and maybe getting something cold to drink, he spotted the makeshift bar — a simple setup with a weathered wood counter, a few sun-bleached stools, and string lights swaying in the breeze. Just far enough from the main music to allow for conversation.
You stood behind the counter, relaxed but focused. Cutoff denim shorts, a sun-faded tank top that read You’re Cut Off , and a vibe that said you’d seen worse than this crowd and weren’t impressed. Hair pulled back, movements easy and confident. You didn’t look up right away — just another beach kid wandering in from the surf.
Dick leaned on the bar, elbows on sun-warmed wood. “Please tell me you’ve got something cold.”
Without glancing up, you shot back, “Depends. Are you eighteen, or just tall?”
His grin broke wide. Bold. Direct. He liked that.
“Tall. But honest.”
You finally gave him a sidelong glance, and in that single, fleeting second, Dick felt an uncanny sense of being read, his carefully constructed civilian persona assessed and dismissed with a quiet nod.
“Iced tea it is.” You poured a glass from a big cooler beside you, the liquid catching the sun like amber. “That volleyball game looked brutal.”
“Only thing injured is my pride.”
You smirked — small but sharp — and set the glass down with a quiet clink. “Pride’s the first casualty at the beach.”
He took a sip. Cold, sweet, perfect.
Dick looked up again at you. You were completely at ease, a stark contrast to the restless energy that usually buzzed around Dick. It was that, as much as the sun-kissed skin and the easy grace, that captured his attention.
“You run this place?” He asked, genuinely curious.
“It runs me…..” You said, wiping down the counter. “But yeah. Summer gig. Keeps me in sunscreen and puts gas in my car.”
Dick let out a quiet chuckle, taking another sip of tea. He leaned in just slightly, not enough to crowd, but enough to show he wasn’t in a rush. His eyes flicked toward the beach, then back to you — reading, scanning, intrigued. You could feel it.
You kept your hands busy, stacking cups, checking the cooler, but your gaze cut back to him.
Now you gave him a longer look — subtle, but pointed — like you were sizing up the question he hadn’t asked yet.
“You’re not just here for iced tea.”
Dick didn’t flinch. Just smiled. “Curious about the bartender who clearly owns this whole stretch of sand.”
“I grew up here…..” You said with a shrug. “You get good at reading tides. And ignoring drama.”
“Drama like volleyball?”
You gave a dry laugh. “Please. That was a warm-up. You should see this place on Fourth of July. Fireworks, drunken dads, three simultaneous breakups, and someone always tries to grill with lighter fluid. Pure chaos.”
He laughed — a real one this time — and you noticed how his whole face lit up when he did. Still relaxed, still keeping something behind the eyes. But more present now.
You leaned back against the bar, wiping your hands on a towel, eyes on the waves. Not distracted — just comfortable with silence.
Dick set his empty glass down, watching you with casual curiosity. Then, like it just occurred to him:
“If you had to disappear forever—like, no warning—where would you go?”
You blinked. “That’s your opener?”
He grinned. “Just wondering.”
You squinted at him for a beat, like trying to decide if he was kidding or unstable. “Okay…..that’s weird.”
“But a good question….” He said, unbothered.
You shook your head, amused despite yourself. “I don’t know. Somewhere quiet. Maybe a mountain town. No cell service. No tourists.”
“Nice. Low profile.”
“Why?” You asked. “You planning on disappearing?”
“Not today…..” He said. “Just…..like to know where people would run if they could.”
You gave him a sideways look. “Definitely weird.”
He smiled into his glass. “But now you’re thinking about it.”
Before you could fire back, M’gann came jogging up, dripping wet and still laughing from whatever chaos was happening at the shoreline.
“Dick! Wally’s trying to race the tide. You coming?”
Dick glanced at her, then back at you. “Duty calls.”
You smirked. “Try not to drown.”
As he let M’gann pull him away, he looked back once. You were already wiping down the counter, shaking your head to yourself.
Weird question or not, he’d definitely made an impression.
☀☉☀☉☀☉☀☉☀☉☀☉☀☉☀☉☀☉☀☉☀☉☀☉☀☉☀☉☀☉☀☉☀☉☀☉☀☉☀
The day unfolded like summer was on their side.
Games turned into snacks, snacks turned into naps under umbrellas, and laughter rolled easy with the tide. Music played. Time slowed. No world-saving, no alerts, no stress. Just sun, sand, and team.
And yet, somehow, Dick kept ending up near the bar.
He swung by for another tea. Then water. Then asked if you had change for a twenty (you didn’t, but you found some). Then he came back to ask if the bar would be open after sunset. You answered without missing a beat — never cold, but never lingering either. Like you were just being polite. Like he wasn’t being obvious.
Wally caught on fast.
“Fourth time…….” He said, lounging in a chair with an ice pop and a smirk. “You trying to stay hydrated or just stalking her now?”
“I’m just being sociable…..” Dick said, too casually.
Artemis raised a brow. “You’ve had five drinks and zero game.”
“I’m asking basic questions……” Dick said, shrugging. “It’s called conversation.”
“Right…….” Wally said, dragging out the word like it was a diagnosis. “So what’s her name?”
Dick opened his mouth. Closed it. “I’ll get back to you.”
Artemis snorted. “So smooth.”
Dick shook his head and leaned back in the sand, watching the waves — and out of the corner of his eye, you, passing drinks to a cluster of locals like you’d been doing it forever.
Whatever this was, it wasn’t a crush. Not yet. But it was something. And he was already planning his next excuse to say hi.
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The party had thinned out, the volume dialed down to a low murmur of music and laughter behind the dunes. Most of the group had migrated toward the bonfire, where stories were being passed around with half-empty bottles and the occasional crack of roasted marshmallows dropping into the sand. The string lights around the bar had gone dark, the counter wiped down and the coolers tucked away for the night.
You stood at the shoreline, barefoot, hoodie sleeves pulled down over your hands, watching the water. Or maybe just staring past it. The moon was high, casting the waves in streaks of silver, and the tide whispered in and out like it didn’t care who was listening.
You heard him before you saw him—footsteps soft in the sand, careful but unhurried.
“I didn’t mean to sneak up…..” Dick said, voice quiet behind you.
“Trust me, you didn’t…..” You replied, not turning.
He stepped up beside you, not too close. Just close enough to stand with you. The silence settled comfortably between you, filled only by the sound of waves and distant crackles from the fire.
“Place feels different when it’s quiet….” He said, eyes on the water.
You nodded once. “Yeah. It’s better.”
Neither of you moved. The ocean kept rolling. Someone behind you laughed too loud, then quieted just as quickly.
“You ever go in at night?” He asked after a moment.
You glanced at him sideways. “Sometimes. When I need to shut my brain off.”
“That’s a good reason….” He said, and there was a faint smile in his voice, not the usual confident one, but something softer.
There was a pause. Then, without any buildup or pretense, he said, “You want to?”
You turned toward him a little, skeptical. “You mean now?”
He shrugged. “Yeah. You don’t have to. I just thought……it’s nice out.”
You looked at him like you were trying to figure out if he was messing with you. But he didn’t say anything else. He didn’t push.
So you rolled your eyes lightly and pulled your hoodie over your head. “Alright. But no races or weird water tricks.”
He grinned, already slipping off his shirt. “I was just gonna swim next to you and hope for the best.”
You let out a real laugh at that—small, unexpected, but honest.
The two of you stepped out of your clothes until you were back in swimwear. No fanfare. Just quiet movement and then the soft sound of feet slipping into the surf, side by side, the cool water lapping at your legs, then your waist, then higher.
It stung a little at first, the way the ocean always did at night, but neither of you said a word. You just kept moving forward until you were deep enough to float. The beach, the fire, the rest of the world faded behind you.
And in that stillness—no voices, no questions, just stars overhead and the quiet rhythm of the tide—you swam next to each other in silence.
Not touching. Not talking.
But not apart.
You broke the silence first, voice barely above the water.
“Can’t believe I actually followed you out here.”
Dick glanced over, smiling at the horizon. “Regret it already?”
You snorted softly. “Depends on how this goes.”
They walked farther out until the water reached their waists, cool and constant. The world behind them shrank to a suggestion. Here, it was just the tide, the moon, and the space between them.
“You’re not really a go-with-the-flow person, are you?” Dick asked, keeping his tone light.
“I go with it….” You said, brushing wet hair back from your face. “I just like knowing where the current’s headed.”
“Fair.”
You looked at him, eyes narrowed slightly in that half-curious, half-wary way that meant you were trying to decide how much you felt like revealing. Then, dry as sandpaper, you asked, “So. What’s your endgame here?”
Dick gave an exaggerated pause, like he had to think it over. “Swim. Talk. Maybe flirt. Definitely not drown.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Hmm. Honest.”
“I mean…..” He said, glancing over at you, “.....you’re hard not to flirt with.”
That pulled you up short — not visibly, but enough for him to notice. The space between your next breath stretched just slightly longer than the one before it.
“You say that to everyone?”
“Nope. Just you.” He gave a small shrug. “You’re the only bartender who’s insulted me twice and still got me wading into cold water.”
You laughed at that — quick, surprised, real.
“You do realize I’m clocking everything you’re doing, right?”
“Good….” He said, tilting his head, “I was starting to wonder if I was being too subtle.”
You hovered there, the two of you gently bobbing in place, no longer walking, just floating. The current pulled in quiet pulses. Neither of you had moved closer, but somehow the distance between you was smaller now. Like the ocean had nudged you into the same rhythm without asking permission.
Dick’s grin was still there, but it had softened — not performance anymore, just presence. You studied him for a moment, not searching, just taking him in. You weren’t leaning forward. But you weren’t backing away either.
“I like it out here….” You said finally, voice lower. “It makes everything else feel small.”
“Yeah…..” He murmured. Just that. One word. But the way he said it — slow, low, certain — it held weight.
The tide pushed again, gently, and you drifted half a step closer.
You turned toward him, water swirling between you. Your expression was matter-of-fact, but your eyes were steady.
“Are you gonna kiss me……” You asked, “....or are you still figuring it out?”
Dick didn’t answer right away. He met your eyes. Unhurried. Calm. Like the question didn’t need a rush.
“Figuring it out….” He said.
You nodded. “Okay.”
He didn’t move for another beat — just looked at you like he was letting the moment settle. Then, without dramatics, he leaned in. His lips brushed yours, light and careful, like he was still asking for permission even as it happened.
It wasn’t bold. It wasn’t rushed. It was a test. A quiet, deliberate ask.
When he pulled back slightly, you were still close. Breath close. Your lips parted, like you were about to say something — but didn’t.
Then you tilted your head, voice teasing. “That the best you got?”
His eyebrows rose. For a second, he looked genuinely wounded. Then a spark lit behind his grin.
"Didn’t want to rush it."
You didn’t reply. Just tilted your chin again — inviting, daring.
So he stepped in. This time with intention.
His hand found your lower back under the water, warm against chilled skin. His mouth met yours again, slower now — deeper. Not careful. Confident. This one said he wasn’t asking anymore.
This one said he meant it.
His lips moved against yours with growing heat, his breath catching faintly when you kissed him back with equal weight. You didn’t chase it. You met it. Matched it.
And he noticed .
The water rocked around you, but your bodies stayed close — not tangled, but tethered. When you finally broke the kiss, the air between you felt different. Charged. Changed.
Your breathing was uneven. You looked at him, dazed in a way that wasn’t confusion — just the aftershock of giving into something you hadn’t meant to.
He stepped back slightly, just enough to watch your reaction — and that look was back. Not cocky. Just sure of himself in a way that didn’t need approval.
You shook your head, smiling without meaning to.
Still catching your breath, you said, “So…..that second one? Definitely more convincing.”
“Took your feedback into account….” He said, smirking.
“Very responsive. Four stars.”
“I aim to impress.”
You arched a brow, trying to look composed and failing at it.
“Is that your move? Swoon a girl in salt water, then vanish into the tide?”
“Only if it works…..” He said. “Otherwise, I ghost into the night and blame the rip current.”
You laughed. “Charming and cowardly. A rare combo.”
“I like to keep expectations low. Easier to exceed them that way.”
This time, your laugh was full — no breathlessness, just warmth. You drifted together, shoulders brushing as the tide nudged you back into each other’s space. It felt natural.
“You do this often?” You asked.
He tilted his head. “Swim under moonlight or flirt with bartenders?”
“Both. Simultaneously.”
“Can’t say I do. Most of my nights are less……wet.”
You snorted. “Please tell me that wasn’t a line.”
“It wasn’t……” He said, laughing. “But now I really wish it was.”
A quiet beat passed. Not awkward. Just still.
“You from around here?” He asked.
“Sort of……” You said. “Grew up a few towns over. Spent more time on this beach than anywhere else.”
“Must be nice. Having a place like this to come back to.”
You shrugged. “It’s sand and salt. But yeah. It’s mine.”
He filed that away. You could see it — not just listening, but keeping the words. Like they mattered.
“You ready to head back?” He asked.
You looked toward the fire — now just a dull glow. The music was faint, thumping low and distant like a slowed heartbeat.
“Not yet…..” You said quietly.
So you stayed. Floating side by side, not clinging, not tangled. Just there .
You turned your head toward him, slowly — and it was instinct now, not decision.
He leaned in again, slower than before, but surer. His mouth met yours in a kiss that didn’t need permission. It lingered, low and deep, a current passing between you that said: this is real .
Then—
A scream.
Followed by a low, pulsing boom.
You both pulled apart fast, water sloshing between you. Your heads snapped toward shore.
In the distance, orange flared behind the dunes — fire. Wrong fire. A sharp, hungry one.
“What the hell—?” You said, heart kicking up hard.
“Fire…..” Dick muttered, scanning the beach. “That’s not the bonfire.”
Another explosion ripped the quiet — closer this time. A plume of smoke followed, and people started shouting. Panic rolled down the shoreline in a ripple, fast and messy.
You were already moving before he finished his thought.
“Of course…..” He muttered. “Can’t even get one day off.”
He turned to you, voice lower now — focused.
“Stay here.”
“Not a chance.”
Your eyes locked. Steady. Sharp. You weren’t rattled. Just ready.
He hesitated. Half a beat. Impressed. Frustrated. Not surprised.
He exhaled. “Then stay close.”
Together, you pushed through the water fast — the fire throwing streaks of red across your skin as you raced back toward the chaos.
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They broke through the surf and hit the sand running.
The night had shifted from warm and glowing to chaos in seconds. Fire twisted out from the tiki torches, no longer decorative but weaponized — arcs of flame tearing across the beach, whipping up sparks that rode the wind like angry insects. Screams echoed through the night as people scattered, the party dissolving into panic. A dune burst open in a violent plume of fire, painting the shoreline in orange and red.
And in the middle of it all walked a furnace of a man — Human Flame , his hands pulsing with heat, sending waves of fire in every direction without care. He moved like he wanted to burn the entire beach into memory.
The team was already moving.
Wally zipped through the crowd, grabbing two people at a time and hauling them toward safety. M’gann hovered above, her focus tight, holding a shimmering telekinetic shield over a huddled group of civilians. Cassie and Artemis moved together, fists and arrows flying — intercepting fireballs mid-air before they could torch the tents. Roy and Jaime flanked the back, forming a wall between the crowd and the chaos, Jaime’s suit glowing electric blue as it morphed into a full defensive mode.
Conner met Human Flame head-on. The first clash sent shockwaves through the sand — but the villain hurled a wall of heat that forced even him back, red-hot air scalding the front lines.
Dick hit the sand barefoot, shirtless, unarmed. He grabbed your wrist, pulling you toward a half-buried rowboat.
“You need to get to cover…..” He said, breath tight.
“Nope!” You shot back, eyes already locked on the nearest cluster of civilians. “People still need help.”
Before he could argue, you were gone.
You weaved through the burning mess with sharp precision — past a toppled grill, through collapsing lawn chairs. You grabbed a dazed teenager by the elbow, dragging them away from a flaming umbrella stand and shouting at them to follow the path Wally was clearing.
Dick growled something under his breath — then moved.
He made do.
He grabbed a beach umbrella and ripped the pole free — makeshift bo staff. A discarded cooler lid became a shield. He scooped sand into a plastic cup to smother smaller fires as he ran. Vaulting a picnic table, he blocked a firebolt with the cooler top, the plastic warping under the heat, then launched himself into a spinning strike. The umbrella pole slammed into Human Flame’s midsection.
It staggered the pyrokinetic, but didn’t stop him.
A burst of fire roared back in retaliation. Dick twisted, diving and covering two kids behind a beach table, the cooler lid blackening in his hand.
He grimaced — his hands were scorched.
Across the burning sand, you had just finished guiding a small group behind Jaime’s shield when you saw it. Dick—off balance, hurt, too close. Human Flame raised one arm, a glowing fireball coalescing at his palm, aimed straight at him.
You didn’t hesitate.
You sprinted behind the bar. Ripped open the emergency cabinet. Grabbed the fire extinguisher.
And ran.
You reached him just as the fireball launched.
PSSHHHHHHHHHHH!
A cloud of white foam blasted across the firebolt mid-air and slammed into Human Flame’s side. The villain recoiled with a choked yell, heat sputtering wildly as the chemical burst blinded him.
Dick blinked through the steam and smoke, coughing. “Perfect timing.”
He surged forward again, sliding across wet sand, then planted the umbrella pole into the ground and used it as a pivot. With a twist and sweep, he spun low and knocked Human Flame’s legs out from under him — the villain hit the ground hard, skidding into a shallow tide pool.
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS—
Steam exploded upward. Human Flame screamed once, then thrashed violently as seawater flooded over him — extinguishing every remaining flicker of flame.
Cassie dropped down like a missile, lasso flashing, binding him in one smooth motion.
Wally came skidding to a stop beside them, panting. “And here I thought this was gonna be a boring night.”
You walked back across the sand, streaked in extinguisher foam and sweat, hair stuck to your face, chest heaving. Dick looked at you — wide-eyed, relieved, and completely exasperated.
“I told you to stay in cover…..” He said.
You blinked at him, deadpan. “And miss all the fun?”
Cassie grinned as she tightened the lasso. “Is it weird the bartender had better aim than you tonight?”
“Not helping…..” Dick muttered.
Roy passed by, giving you a quick, respectful nod. “Nice timing with the extinguisher.”
You shrugged. “Figured someone should do something practical.”
Wally gave a short laugh, tossing an arm around Dick’s shoulders. “She’s cool. You’re lucky she didn’t put you out.”
Dick half-smiled, shaking his head, turning back to you. “I stand by my original suggestion. You should’ve stayed behind.”
You raised an eyebrow. “And miss watching you trip a fireball guy with a beach pole?”
Artemis strolled past, smirking. “He’s just mad you beat him to the punch.”
Dick muttered something under his breath.
You leaned in slightly, grinning. “Hey. Team effort.”
And around you, the flames gave way to smoke, the panic to laughter, the adrenaline to calm — the beach beginning to breathe again, one pulse at a time.
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The glow of the bonfire flickered in the distance, a quiet pulse against the dark. Most of the chaos had passed. Police lights blinked softly at the far end of the beach, casting lazy red and blue flashes against the dunes. The air still held the weight of smoke and salt.
Behind the weathered bar, you crouched on a stool, focused. A half-empty first aid kit lay open in front of you, gauze and ointment scattered across the counter like spilled cards. Across from you, Dick sat with his arm stretched out, palm up, fingers twitching slightly. His hand was red — not serious, but angry with heat, a few blisters already rising along the knuckles.
You dabbed ointment onto his skin, careful but firm.
“Next time you decide to fight a fire-wielding maniac….” You murmured, not looking up, “......maybe don’t do it with your bare hands and a beach pole.”
He winced as the gel touched raw skin. “Noted. In my defense……the beach pole had excellent reach.”
You gave him a dry glance. “And zero flame resistance.”
He smirked. You were focused, meticulous, but not hovering. He liked that — no fuss. Just purpose.
“You’re pretty calm……” He said, watching you, “......for someone who just helped stop a supervillain.”
You shrugged without looking up. “Wasn’t my first fire. Probably won’t be my last.”
You finished wrapping the gauze and leaned back, arms crossing over your chest. The bandage was neat. Secure. You didn’t say anything for a beat, and neither did he.
Then:
“You figured it out, didn’t you?” Dick asked. “About us.”
You met his eyes, unreadable. “Yeah. Pretty early.”
He raised an eyebrow, half surprised. “And you didn’t say anything?”
“Didn’t seem like the kind of party where you call someone out for being a superhero.”
He huffed a laugh. “That’s……very generous of you.”
You grinned. “Also, I didn’t know which one you were, and I wasn’t about to play the ‘mask match’ guessing game.”
He laughed softly, then hesitated. It was small — a flicker of consideration, like he was opening a door partway just to see if you’d notice.
“It’s Nightwing……” He said. “In case you’re curious.”
You tilted your head, thought about it, then nodded. “Cool.”
That was it. No awe. No wide eyes.
Dick blinked. “That’s it?”
“I mean, it’s a good name….” You said. “But I already figured you were one of the serious ones. The way the others looked at you.”
“You’re……really not fazed by any of this.”
“Nope.” You pointed at his hand. “You’re just another guy who needed aloe.”
He let out a soft, amused breath. “Wow. I’m wounded.”
“You will be if you try to take that wrap off early.”
Your eyes met. The flirt was still there, but quieter now. Something worn-in. Something real.
You grabbed a water bottle from behind the counter and slid it to him.
“Thanks…..” You said, voice soft but steady. “For what you did. Out there.”
He took it, nodding once. “Right back at you. That extinguisher move? Solid.”
You smirked. “Stick with me, Nightwing. I’m full of surprises.”
And you smiled at each other. Not a big moment. Just a shared one — quiet, steady, full of the kind of connection that didn’t need a label yet.
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The fire crackled lazily in the center of a loose circle of heroes. The sand was still warm beneath them, the night air soft with leftover heat and salt. Everyone looked sun-touched, sweat-dried, and deeply, happily tired.
Wally held court as usual, halfway through an exaggerated retelling of a mission that, by now, involved three helicopters and a shark. Artemis chuckled, not bothering to interrupt. M’gann rolled her eyes with affectionate exasperation. Someone on the edge of the group laughed so hard they snorted soda through their nose.
Dick sat a little outside the circle, finally relaxed, shoulders loose, gaze steady. You were next to him, knees pulled up to your chest, arms resting over them.
He glanced at you.
You were already looking his way.
“So……” He said, voice low so only you could hear, “.....you think you’d be down for a redo? A calmer beach day with us? No fires. No villains. Just sun and sand.”
You smirked, then shook your head gently, eyes soft.
“You know……as tempting as that sounds, I think this one was kind of perfect.”
You leaned your head lightly against his shoulder. He didn’t move — just let it happen. Let it be easy.
Dick smiled, quiet and a little surprised. “Perfect’s not a word I’d expect to hear after a night like this.”
You closed your eyes, half-teasing. “Well……maybe perfect’s just what happens when you’re with the right company.”
The firelight flickered across your faces. The waves rolled in behind you, steady and slow. Around you, laughter hummed, stories flowed, and the night held on — just a little longer.
And for once, no one had to rush.