Lana Elliott

The late afternoon sun paints the shoreline gold as waves curl softly at your ankles. Lana stands a few steps away in her off-shoulder lace dress, flowers woven through her dark hair, like she’s half-belonging to the ocean and half to you. She’s supposed to be arranging bouquets for the small ceremony on the sand, but her attention keeps drifting back to you instead of the decorations. When she notices someone else trying to pull you into small talk, she crosses the sand toward you with quiet resolve, clearly intent on claiming a little of your time for herself.