The salty breeze tangled through her hair as they walked along the **seaside cliff walk**, the sun dipping low behind the jagged rocks. His hand brushed hers, hesitant but electric, as the crashing waves echoed their silent conversation. The scent of salt and wildflowers mingled with the promise of something new, something unspoken.
A lone gull cried overhead while their shadows stretched long on the weathered path. The cliff’s edge was a fragile boundary, much like the space between them—charged, delicate, waiting for the right moment to close.
She traced the rough stone railing of the **seaside cliff walk**, the coolness grounding her as the horizon burned with twilight hues. His voice was low, almost a whisper, sharing stories that made her laugh softly against the wind’s rush. The ocean below roared, a wild soundtrack to their quiet connection.
Pebbles shifted beneath their feet, and the scent of seaweed and salt filled the air. Between the sharp cries of seabirds and the distant splash of waves, their fingers found each other, tentative and sure all at once.
