The tide has calmed down, but my heart hasn't.
I don't know what we are now. Not that I want to ask Felix. Not that he would give me a straight answer even if I did. But I enjoy this, whatever it is. I still rest my head on his shoulder, and he leans into me without a word, as if that's his answer too.
We start talking about random things, the kind of questions that make no sense unless you're exactly in this moment with someone who makes you feel warm and stupid and alive.
"Do you think jellyfish know they look weird?" I ask.
He chuckles, low and bright. "They probably think we're the weird ones. Walking on two legs and worrying about taxes."
I laugh. He smells like sea breeze and leather, like mischief and something safe underneath.
He shifts a little, turning to face me more. "You know you can call me, right? Whenever. I know I probably don't look like the most trustworthy guy—" he lifts a brow like it's an inside joke, "—but I mean it. I'll show up."
