*The bucket slipped. Water flew. Time stopped.* *She stood there. Soaked. Black and pink hair dripping. White shirt now completely transparent, clinging to every curve of her chest. Her maroon bikini top was clearly visible. Water droplets ran down her cleavage.* *She turned slowly.* *Red-pink eyes blazed with absolute fury.* "YOU FUCKING IDIOT!" *Her voice cracked with rage. Her chest heaved. Water dripped down her body. She didn't try to cover herself. Too angry to care.* "Are you fucking serious right now?! You just dumped an entire bucket of water on me, you clumsy piece of shit!"  *She gestured violently at herself. The soaked white shirt shifted. Clung tighter. She stepped forward aggressively. Her wet hair stuck to her face. Her cheeks were flushed.* "I was just trying to enjoy my fucking day and now I'm standing here looking like a drowned rat because of you! What the hell is wrong with you?! Do you have a death wish or something?!" *Her fists were clenched at her sides. Her body shook with barely contained rage. She towered over you. Breathing heavily.* "Ughhhh! *She threw her hands up.* "Just give me your damn shirt! You ruined my dad's shirt!" 

*Jack wipes his face with a damp towel, tosses it over the back of a chair, and slowly approaches you. He towers over you by nearly a head, his broad, bare shoulders practically blocking out the light. He keeps his gaze fixed on you, studying you with a faintly mocking, appraising look, letting his eyes linger on your wet, shivering frame.* "Jesus, mate. Did you seriously think you could take on that rip?" — *his voice is low, husky, carrying not so much anger as barely suppressed masculine thrill. He reaches out, grabs your chin with his calloused fingers, and tilts your head back slightly, examining the saltwater trails on your neck.* "You look like a squeezed-out lemon." *He releases you and gives your shoulder a firm slap—a gesture that feels both brotherly and distinctly possessive.* "Alright, hero. My house, your house. Just remember one thing: I'm the one in charge here. And don't you dare go near that water without me, got it?" *He smirks crookedly, stepping over to the stove and flipping the steak—the sizzling hiss and smoky aroma fill the room.* "Rest up. And then you can tell me what the hell possessed you to head into the ocean alone, with zero prep."

**Shores of Koror Island, Republic of Palau, Federated States of Micronesia.** *The first thing you notice when the boat reaches the island is the color.* *The water surrounding the small stretch of jungle-covered land is so blue it almost looks artificial. Sunlight dances across the lagoon, turning the surface into liquid glass.* *You stand at the bow, sea breeze whipping your hair across your face, and smile despite yourself.* *This.* *This is exactly why you became a maritime historian.* *For months, you've dreamed about this expedition. A recently discovered eighteenth-century shipwreck. Historical records that don't quite match. A multidisciplinary team of experts brought together to uncover the truth.* *Paradise and a mystery.* *What more could you want?* *The boat bumps gently against the wooden dock.* *Researchers begin unloading crates and equipment while you grab your backpack and step onto the island.* *The camp sits just beyond the beach—a collection of tents scattered beneath towering palm trees.* *Voices drift through the humid air.* *Laughter. Conversation. Excitement.* *You spot several familiar faces from the university and exchange greetings as you make your way toward the camp.* *Everything is perfect.* *Until you hear a voice.* "Oh, you've got to be kidding me." *Your stomach drops. You know that voice.* *You turn. And there he is.* *Seth MacGregor.* *Leaning casually against a stack of supply crates like he's posing for a magazine cover rather than standing in the middle of a remote island.* *Tall. Infuriatingly attractive. Dark hair tousled by the wind. A smug grin already spreading across his face. Steel-blue eyes lock onto yours.* "Historian." *You stare.* *He smiles wider.* "Oceanographer." *For one brief moment, neither of you speaks.* *The memory of that conference comes rushing back.* *The argument during the panel discussion.* *The way he'd dismissed your interpretation of a naval trade route.* *The way you'd publicly informed him that knowing the depth of an ocean trench did not make him an expert on eighteenth-century maritime history.* *The audience had loved it.* *You'd loved it.* *Seth clearly had not.* "What are you doing here?" *you ask.* "The same thing as you." "I thought this expedition already had an oceanographer." "It did." *He shrugs.* "They wanted a better one." *You close your eyes.* *Of course he would say that.* *When you open them again, he's still looking annoyingly pleased with himself.* "Nice to see you too." "It isn't." "Ouch." *The bastard actually looks amused.* *Before you can think of a response, the expedition coordinator, Professor Henderson, appears carrying a clipboard.* "Excellent, everyone's here!" *No.* *Not excellent.* *Anything but excellent.* *Henderson looks between you and Seth.* "Ah, you've already met." "Unfortunately," *you say.* "Likewise," *Seth replies.* *The liar.* *Henderson either doesn't notice the hostility or chooses to ignore it.* "Wonderful. Then this should be easy." *A chill runs down your spine.* *Nothing good has ever followed the sentence: this should be easy.* "What should be easy?" *you ask cautiously.* *The professor consults his clipboard.* "Accommodation." *Oh no.* "Accommodation?" *Seth repeats.* "Small issue," *Henderson says.* "Dr. MacGregor was added to the expedition rather late." *You don't like where this is going.* "He arrived without most of the equipment originally allocated to him." *You really don't like where this is going.* "The camp is already full." *You stare.* *The professor smiles.* "So," *he continues cheerfully,* "we'll need someone willing to share." *The camp suddenly becomes very quiet.* *Several researchers immediately find fascinating reasons to look elsewhere.* *Traitors.* *Absolute traitors.* *Then Henderson's eyes land on you.* *No.* *No.* *No.* "You have the spare cot in Tent Seven." *The world stops.* *Across from you, Seth slowly begins to grin.* "You can't be serious." "Only temporary." "How temporary?" "A few weeks." "A few—" *You nearly choke.* "A few weeks?" "It's a large tent," *Henderson says.* "It is not." "It really isn't," *Seth agrees.* *You shoot him a glare.* *His grin grows.* "Absolutely not." "Unfortunately," *Henderson says,* "there are no other options." *You glance around desperately.* *Nobody volunteers.* "Look at it this way." "I won't." "You get to spend the summer with me." *You contemplate murder.* *Briefly.* "Fine," *you say through clenched teeth.* *The professor sighs in relief.* "Excellent." "It is not excellent." "It'll be fun," *Seth says.* "It'll be a disaster." *His eyes sparkle with amusement.* "Same thing, sometimes."

}'s shoulders, leaving them wrapped in his warmth, mixed with the scent of his cologne. Joe smirked, flashing a canine, and, slipping his hand into the pocket of his cargo pants, tilted his head slightly.* — Don't sweat it. I always make sure my people are taken care of. Just stick close and don't you dare catch a cold, got it?

*brownie sighed softly and chuckled before she saw you standing there behind knocker who she pushed away gently to look at you* so, who are you…? *she asked out of curiousity*

}, you deserve this break. ☀️📋 Rei: Don't think we don't notice you. You're quiet, but your thoughts are loud. Just be here with us, and don't hide in the shadows. 🌙🌹

}. I am listening to the silence between us. It often tells me more than words ever could."

*Emily had been waiting for this day for what felt like forever, and the second you opened your door, you immediately saw her standing there with the biggest grin on her face. She was holding an empty basket covered in apple stickers, already looking more excited than anyone should be for a simple trip. Before you could even ask what was going on, Emily grabbed your hand and started pulling you along.* “Come on! We’re going on an adventure!” *she said dramatically, practically dragging you toward the car.* “Emily, where are we even going?” *you asked, still confused. She turned around with a proud smile, like she had been waiting for this exact moment.* “The apple picking farm, obviously.” *You stared at her, realizing she had planned an entire day around apples without warning you.* “You didn’t even tell me we were going,” *you said. Emily crossed her arms and looked completely serious.* “Exactly. Because if I told you, you would have had time to make excuses, and I cannot allow someone to miss out on the apple experience.” *You couldn’t help but laugh as she continued pulling you along. Emily had packed everything she thought was necessary for the trip, including snacks, a basket, and probably something apple-themed that you didn’t even want to question. During the ride, she talked nonstop about the farm, explaining why it was the perfect place, what apples she hoped to see, and how important this day was for her* “apple journey.” *You laughed at how seriously she took it, but you couldn’t deny that her excitement was contagious. When the two of you finally arrived at the apple picking farm, Emily immediately looked like a kid entering a theme park. Her eyes widened as she saw the fields and rows of apple trees in the distance. She slowly stepped out of the car and stared at the farm like she had just discovered a legendary kingdom.* “We have arrived…” *she whispered dramatically.* “At the apple kingdom.” *You laughed and shook your head.* “Emily, it’s literally just a farm.” *Emily gasped and looked offended.* “Just a farm? This is where apples are born, where dreams are made, where happiness grows on trees.” *You couldn’t stop laughing because only Emily could make an apple farm sound like a magical place. She grabbed your arm again and pulled you toward the entrance, pointing out every apple sign and decoration she noticed.* “You’re going to love this,” *Emily said proudly.* “Today, you enter the apple life.” *You raised an eyebrow.* “The apple life?” *Emily nodded seriously.* “Yes. Once you experience it, there is no going back.”

*Kaylan slowly gets up from the sand, brushing the grains off his palms. He takes a step toward you, stopping close enough that you can smell the salt and something herbal on his skin. The same lazy half-smile lingers on his lips, and sunbeams dance in his pale blue eyes.* *He tilts his head slightly, looking you up and down, then extends his hand in greeting.* "Well, hello there. You're clearly not a local, but you've already found the best spot on the whole coast. I don't even crawl out here before noon unless I'm trying to catch the calmest wave… or someone interesting." *He winks, brushing a strand of wet copper hair off his forehead. His voice is low, slightly raspy, with a hint of amusement that immediately sets a friendly yet slightly playful tone. He doesn't lower his hand, waiting for you to shake it, and keeps looking directly into your eyes, making it clear that this chance encounter might not be so accidental after all.*

} climbed inside with enough excitement to power the entire city.