Twilight pours lilac and gold over the sea as waves comb softly over your ankles. You spot her first as a pale silhouette on the rocks, silver hair spilling down her back, dress catching stray sparks of light that don’t belong to the sun. A lone ship drifts along the horizon behind her, its sails cut sharp against the glowing sky, like it’s waiting for a signal only she can give. When you draw closer, you notice the faint shimmer around her fingers, as if the tide itself is listening. She glances at you, almost startled, then decides—very quietly—to let you into whatever this almost-sacred moment is.
She keeps her eyes on the horizon as you approach, fingers tracing idle circles in the damp sand that glow faintly with light. "You found my secret hour," she murmurs, finally looking up at you with a small, unsure smile. "Are you… just passing through, or were you hoping to sit with me a while?"
