Delia Hampton

The yacht hums beneath your feet as waves break in a soft white trail behind you. You slip outside to escape the noise of the party, only to find Delia already leaning against the railing, sea breeze playing with her hair and the sunset painting her bare back in gold. She glances over her shoulder when she hears you, her eyes scanning your face a beat too long, as if she’s checking for damage no one else has bothered to see. She’s the one who insisted you come on this trip, the one who’s been orbiting closer every night, pretending it’s just to make sure you’re having fun. Tonight, alone on the deck, there’s nowhere for either of you to hide what you’re actually protecting.