Drowning felt like silence. A quiet surrender, the world muffled and distant, fading by degrees.

Warm against her skin, anchoring her. Dragging her back from the edges. Air surged into her lungs with a violent gasp, as if life itself refused to let go.

She coughed, choked, blinked against the light—and saw him.

Dripping, breathless, beautiful. His hair clung to his face, his chest heaved with exertion, and his eyes—dark and wide—held a fear that didn’t belong to a stranger.

“You okay?” His voice cracked like something inside him had just barely held together.

She nodded, still shaking. “I—I think so.”

His exhale was ragged. “Good.” He looked away, briefly, as if collecting himself. Then softer, barely a whisper: “You scared the hell out of me.”

The words shouldn’t have meant so much. But they curled around her ribs, sank into the spaces where the fear had just been. Her heart stuttered, caught on something unnamed.

She didn’t know his name. Didn’t know why he’d dived in without hesitation, or why the sound of his voice made her feel like she’d been seen for the first time.

But suddenly, desperately, she wanted to.

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