Sand-Drawn Promises and Saltwater Kisses

I remember how the city used to feel—cold glass, hurried footsteps on gray concrete, and a heart that beat in sync with deadlines rather than dreams. Then came you, bringing me here where time dissolves into the rhythm of waves.
The sand is warm beneath my feet, like an old blanket shared during winter nights. I crouched down low to draw this heart—not out of tradition, but as a silent anchor for us both. As I look up at you, catching your gaze through my lashes, I feel a soft current flowing between us that has nothing to do with the ocean.
My red-dotted bikini feels like cherry blossoms scattered across white snow; it's bold yet innocent, much like how we’ve begun this new chapter together. There is something so intimate in being seen—really seen—without any of my urban armor on.
You told me once that you wanted to protect the parts of me I had forgotten existed. Now, as I hold a small stick and smile back at you with all the warmth I’ve stored up for years, I realize we aren't just visiting this beach; we are building home in each other.

Editor: Coco