Hey there,

Cheers,
Em x

—

She watched him from afar, afraid to walk closer and disturb the quiet of the fading day. Twilight was showing on the horizon, making the dark blue of the sky fade into the deep blue of the ocean.

Nick had been there for hours now and she had been sitting in her car for the same amount of time, the radio turned off, the windows closed. Everything still and silent as she waited for him.

Waited for him to get back to the real world, away from his dark thoughts.
She didn’t know what to do: should she go to him and ask him to tell her what was wrong? Explain to her what he was going through?

She just hoped she could help. Except she wasn’t even sure she had the right to do that. Not any longer.

She sighed and watched the still figure on the shore, darkness engulfing him. Yet she could still depict the way his body was hunched, his head in his hands.
For once in his life, he wasn’t sitting in front of the ocean, admiring the view, feeling the water soothe him.

No, for once, it wasn’t working.

She had seen him take his shoes off to walk slowly on the beach, letting the cool water brush his feet. She had smiled at the sight, that was so…him.
But now, it was night and he was still sitting there, his shoes lying haphazardly at his side. And she imagined the cold sweeping his naked toes. But still he didn’t move. Didn’t put back his shoes on, didn’t shake from the cold.

No, he just sat there, unmoving, unwavering. His gaze lost in the sea.

As if in a trance, she got out of the car and walked towards him. Then she stopped, suddenly unsure. What if he rejected her? Again.
Shaking her head to clear it, she kneeled in front of him, blocking his view. His eyes blinked, she saw them blink but he didn’t say anything. Didn’t acknowledge her presence as if she was only a ghost or a figment of his imagination.

“Nick?”

A few minutes passed, the silence punctuated only by the sound of the waves softly crashing below them. Nothing happened. He didn’t move, she didn’t move. He didn’t respond.
She looked down at his feet and spied the now blue toes, making her gasp in pain. Pain for him, for what he was enduring.
Impulsively, she rested her hands on his feet, trying to warm the cold skin.

And that’s when he looked up at her.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice shaking. It was probably the first words he had said in hours, possibly days.

“Your feet were cold.”

He blinked again, confusion sweeping his face. Then something happened: he smiled softly and said, “Thanks.”