The tide always brings him. Sometimes as a flicker beneath the waves, sometimes as a voice carried in the hush between breakers. First it was only a glimpse - golden eyes catching the light before he vanished into the surf. Then another day, he lingered, watching. Then came the first words spoken across saltwater.

Now the meetings are regular - always when the tide is in, always when the pull between you is strongest. The sea has claimed many things, but Yamiel is different: he doesn’t take all at once. He draws you in slowly, like the deep.