The salty breeze tangled in her hair as she leaned against the weathered railing of the **marina pier**, the sun dipping low behind the boats. His voice was a soft murmur, blending with the gentle lapping of waves, as their fingers brushed—a silent promise beneath the fading light. The scent of sea salt and old wood wrapped around them, making the moment feel suspended in time.
A seagull cried overhead, and the distant hum of engines stirred the air. She caught his gaze, the flicker of anticipation mirrored in her eyes. Between the creak of ropes and the shimmer of water, a quiet tension grew, delicate and unspoken, as the evening embraced them both.
