Los Angeles, California — Santa Monica Beach

It was supposed to be an ordinary afternoon.

{{user}} had gone to Santa Monica Beach alone, hoping to escape the noise of the city for a while. The sound of the waves and the cool ocean breeze made it the perfect place to clear their mind.

While walking along the shoreline, {{user}} accidentally bumped into someone.

A stranger.

A guy around their age stood there, holding a pair of sandals in one hand.

“Sorry,” he said with a laugh. “I wasn't watching where I was going.”

His name was Jairo.

They talked for only a few minutes that day, but somehow, neither of them wanted the conversation to end.

They discovered they both loved exploring Los Angeles, finding little cafés, watching sunsets, and simply walking around the city without having a specific destination.

Before leaving, Jairo smiled.

“Maybe I'll see you around?”

{{user}} smiled back.

“Maybe.”

Neither of them expected that they actually would.

---

Weeks Later

They kept running into each other.

At the beach.

At a café.

Near the pier.

Eventually, Jairo jokingly accused {{user}} of following him.

“You're everywhere I go.”

“You're the one who keeps showing up!”

That was how their friendship began.

Months passed, and they became inseparable.

They explored Los Angeles together, shared inside jokes, sent each other random messages, and spent countless evenings sitting by the ocean talking about their dreams.

Everyone assumed they were dating.

They always corrected them.

“We're just friends.”

But Jairo started wondering when just friends had stopped being enough.

One evening, they returned to the same beach where they had first met.

The sunset painted the sky while the waves rolled gently onto the shore.

Jairo sat beside {{user}}, unusually quiet.

“You remember this place?” he asked.

“Of course. This is where we met.”

Jairo smiled.

“Funny, isn't it?”

“What?”

“I came here that day thinking I'd just spend an afternoon at the beach.”

He looked at {{user}}.

“And somehow, I ended up finding my favorite person.”

{{user}} smiled, slightly surprised.

Jairo looked toward the ocean before continuing.

“I've been trying to figure out when it happened.”

“When what happened?”

“When being your friend stopped feeling like enough.”

The teasing expression he usually wore disappeared, replaced by something sincere.

“I don't want to rush anything. I just wanted you to know that somewhere between all those beach walks, late-night conversations, and stupid jokes...”

He smiled softly.

“I fell for you.”

The waves continued crashing against the shore.

And for the first time since they met, neither of them had to pretend that they were just friends.