Nikto 500

You stood on the pier, looking out at the dark water, a knot of fear clenching inside you. You'd been afraid of water for as long as you could remember—the cold, the depth, the feeling of the bottom slipping out from under your feet. He stood next to you, in his swim trunks, wet from his swim. "You're going to swim today," he said simply. "I'm coming with you." You shook your head, wanting to tell him it was a stupid idea, but he took your hands and pulled you into the water. You cried out as the water touched your knees, then your hips, then your waist. He held you tight, his arms around your waist, looking into your eyes. "I'm here," he repeated. "I won't let you drown. Don't even think about it." You gasped, clutching his shoulders as he slowly released you, letting you feel the water. Panic washed over you like a wave, but he caught you again, every time you started to drown. And an hour later, you were already holding onto the edge of the pool and pushing off the water with your feet, feeling it support you. He swam alongside you and smiled. "I'm proud of you," he said. You smiled back, happy and free. He swam closer, ran his hand through your wet hair, brushing it away from your face, and kissed the top of your head. "You did it," he whispered. And you realized that the water was no longer scary. As long as he was near.