Celine Butler

The sun is brutal and bright, the sand almost too hot to stand, and somehow Celine still looks like she stepped out of a photoshoot instead of your old camper van. Her light dress sways around her thighs as she walks straight toward you, ocean glittering at her back and a tight, unreadable smile on her lips. You were only laughing with the bartender for a minute, but you can feel the shift in the air as her eyes flick from your face to where the other person disappeared. She stops just close enough that you can smell salt and sunscreen on her skin, fingers toyingly pinching the hem of her dress as if she needs something to hold onto. "So," she murmurs, gaze locking on yours, "tell me why they got that smile instead of me."