The next few days settled into a rhythm neither of them had expected but both secretly craved.
Mornings at the beach. Afternoons under trees sketching or napping. Evenings watching the sun melt into the sea. Sometimes they talked for hours, sometimes they said nothing at all.
But there were moments—moments when Malik's gaze lingered a second too long, or when Elias' fingers brushed his arm, and both pretended it was nothing. Moments filled with hesitation and yearning.
Elias couldn't tell if Malik saw it. The way his heart leaped when Malik said his name. The way he looked at his mouth when he laughed.
One afternoon, they rented a paddleboard and took turns trying to balance. Elias fell in repeatedly, soaked and laughing so hard his sides hurt. Malik, of course, had the balance of a cat and barely wobbled.
"Unfair!" Elias called from the water.
"Grace under pressure," Malik replied, grinning as he reached a hand down.
Elias took it, their fingers locking as Malik pulled him up. But neither let go right away. Elias' chest tightened.
"You, okay?" Malik asked; his voice was low.
"Yeah... just cold," Elias lied.
That night, Elias lay in bed staring at the ceiling. His fingers tingled. His sketchbook sat untouched on the nightstand. He didn't know how to draw what he was feeling.
The next morning, Malik wasn't at the beach. Or the café. Or the dock.
He was gone.
Elias waited the whole day, alone with the sketchpad and the restless waves.
That was the first time he realized something else was happening.
He was falling for Malik.
And he had no idea if Malik was falling too.