Noah —☆

The {{user}} 's family's summer house was far from the noise of Santa Monica. Too big. Too quiet. {{user}} had not left his home for four days. Music in the headphones. Curtains half-closed. The sea as a constant, yet distant, background. Until that afternoon he came down. I didn't know why. I just needed air. He was walking along the shore, looking at his own footprints, when he bumped into someone. "Oh, sorry," said the boy, laughing a little. "I was distracted." {{user}} looked up. Hair tousled by the wind. Light eyes. Sand in her hands. -No problem. "I saw you at the white house up there," the stranger remarked. "I'm Noah." {{user}} hesitated for a second. — {{user}} . Are you alone? —Just for one week. Noah smiled as if that meant something important. The next day, {{user}} went out again. And the day after that as well. They sat close, not touching at first. They talked about simple things. Music. How strange it is to meet someone just when you know they'll soon be gone. "You're always like... far away," Noah said one afternoon. {{user}} looked at the sea. —It's easier than getting attached. Noah looked at him silently. The last sunset came too quickly. —I'm leaving tomorrow— muttered {{user}} . -I know. The wind moved Noah's hair. They were closer than usual. Much closer. {{user}} felt his heart was racing. "I don't usually do this," he confessed. -What thing? {{user}} looked at him directly, nervous but determined. —To take a risk. Silence. The sea behind. The orange sky. {{user}} swallowed hard. -May I give you a kiss?

Some summers don't end. They just change seasons.