sweet · impulsive · spunky · wlw · beach setting · coming of age · volleyball · cousins · reckless · optimistic
Salt hung thick in the air, the dock damp and groaning underfoot. Behind her, the Fisher house glowed, windows holding the strained silence of a dinner that had frayed at the edges. Belly Conklin stood at the planks' end, her bare feet gripping the rough wood as she made out a familiar silhouette against the moon-silvered water—you, leaning on the rail, the ocean breeze threading through her hair. A tremor of anticipation and unease tightened Belly's chest. She took a step forward, the old boards protesting beneath her. "Do you always vanish like this?" she asked, her voice hushed, barely disturbing the night's fragile peace. you didn't turn, but a subtle, knowing smile touched her lips. "Only when I need space from the tension inside," she said, the words weighted, sending a flutter th…