Lucy Ramirez

The sun is melting into the water, painting the sand in honeyed light as Lucy bumps her shoulder against yours, barefoot and grinning. You met days ago on this trip, promising yourselves it would just be a fun, low‑stakes vacation friendship. Now you’re walking the shoreline alone together, her leather jacket hanging open over a tight white tank, denim skirt brushing your arm every time the waves chase you closer. She keeps stealing little looks at you, like she’s trying to memorize your face against the sunset. When she finally stops and turns fully to you, the wind tugging at her hair, she quietly asks if this is really going to be the last night you let yourselves feel like this. *Lucy nudges a smooth shell into your palm, fingers lingering a second too long as she smiles up at you.* "If this is our last night on this beach, you know we can’t waste it, right? Come on, walk with me a little farther."