The ocean stretched endlessly before me, the waves rolling in a steady rhythm that matched the racing of my heart. The salty breeze kissed my skin, and the moon hung high in the sky, casting its silver glow across the shore.

And there he was.

Thomas.

Sitting on one of the wooden benches facing the ocean, his posture relaxed yet distant. He hadn't noticed me yet.

I hesitated for a moment, watching him. There was something about the way he sat there, completely still, lost in thought. His brows were slightly furrowed, his jaw clenched like he was fighting an internal battle.

Was something wrong?

A lump formed in my throat. Was I too early? Was I too late? Was I reading too much into this?

I cleared my throat softly, hoping to catch his attention. But he didn't move.

Still deep in thought.

I took a slow step forward, my feet sinking slightly into the soft sand as I approached. Finally, instead of waiting for him to notice me, I silently took the empty space beside him on the bench.

For a while, neither of us spoke.

The only sound between us was the gentle crashing of the waves and the distant hum of the wind rustling through the trees.

I opened my mouth to say something—to break the silence, to ask him what this was all about—but before I could, he finally spoke.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?"

His voice was soft, like a secret being whispered into the night.

I turned to face him, and my breath caught in my throat.

His gaze was intense—so deep, so raw, so utterly captivating that I had to look away, my cheeks heating up.

I could still feel his eyes on me, but then, just as quickly as it had come, his gaze shifted back to the ocean, as if he were speaking to the waves instead of me.

"When I saw this girl," he continued, his tone thoughtful, almost distant, "it felt like everything stopped. The time, the noise... even my own heart. Everything just stopped for a second."

I swallowed hard.

"It's funny, though," he said, a sad smile playing at his lips. "Because at that time, I had a girlfriend. And I loved her. But this girl... she was different. She wasn't like anyone else."

Something in my chest tightened painfully.

A part of me—the logical, rational part—knew I shouldn't be feeling jealous. I had no right to be jealous.

But the emotional side of me—the side that had spent so long hoping—was unraveling.

I wanted to ask him who she was.

I wanted to tell him to stop—because I wasn't sure if my heart could take it.

But instead, I listened.

"She's different," he said again, his voice quieter this time. "Because she's her. Because she doesn't try to be like anyone else. She speaks her mind. She stands her ground. She's not afraid to be herself, even when the world tries to make her feel small."

His words settled deep inside me, leaving behind a warmth I couldn't ignore.

I wanted so badly to believe—to hope—that he was talking about me.

But what if he wasn't?

What if I was just reading too much into things?

What if this was just Thomas being Thomas—kind, affectionate, thoughtful, but never mine?

I forced a smile, keeping my voice as steady as I could.

"Why are you telling me this, Thomas?" I asked, hoping my voice didn't give me away. "Do I know this girl? Do you... want me to help you win her over?"

The second the words left my mouth, I regretted them.

But I needed to say it.

Because if he was talking about someone else, then I had to prepare myself. I had to bury whatever foolish hope still lingered inside me before it destroyed me completely.

He turned to me again, his expression unreadable.

And then—

"Will you help me win your heart?"

I froze.

My breath hitched.

My pulse roared in my ears, my heart slamming against my ribs like it was trying to break free.

I blinked, my brain struggling to process what had just happened.

"Did I hear him right?"

"Is he saying what I think he's saying?"

"No... this can't be real. This has to be another dream—"

But it was real.

Thomas was looking at me, waiting for an answer.

For a split second, I considered running—because if this was a joke, if this was some cruel misunderstanding, then I wouldn't be able to handle it.

But the way he was looking at me—

Like I was the only thing that mattered.

Like I was the girl he had been talking about all along.

I felt my lips part, my voice barely above a whisper.

"You don't need help, Thomas."

I swallowed, my chest tightening with overwhelming emotion.

"Because the first time I saw you, you already captured my heart."

Something shifted in his expression.

His breath hitched, and before I could even process what was happening, he was standing.

I stood too.

And then—

We moved.

We didn't hesitate.

We didn't think.

We just moved toward each other, closing the space between us like we had been waiting forever to do so.

His hands found my face, cupping my cheeks with a gentleness that sent shivers down my spine.

I leaned into his touch, my own hands resting lightly on his chest.

His heart was racing—just as fast as mine.

Our eyes met.

I saw everything in them—love, happiness, longing, adoration.

And then, slowly—

He leaned in.

I didn't stop him.

I didn't want to stop him.

I let my eyes flutter shut, my breath hitching as our lips finally met.

The second our lips touched, everything fell into place.

It was soft.

Slow.

Perfect.

I felt everything in that moment.

The warmth of his hands.

The rapid beat of his heart against my palms.

The taste of the ocean lingering on his lips.

The fireworks in my stomach, the butterflies fluttering wildly.

Everything.

He pulled me closer, deepening the kiss, and I melted into him completely.

We moved in sync, like we had done this a thousand times before, like we had been waiting for this moment all our lives.

And when we finally pulled away for air, he rested his forehead against mine, his fingers tracing slow, lazy patterns on my skin.

A slow, breathtaking smile spread across his lips.

"You don't know how happy you just made me, (Y/n)," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

I smiled back, my heart swelling.

"And you don't know how long I've waited for this day to come," I murmured.

He chuckled softly, his lips brushing against mine once more in a feather-light kiss.

And just like that—

I knew.

This wasn't a dream.

This was real.

And finally, after all the stolen glances, the almost-confessions, the endless waiting—

We were exactly where we were meant to be.