Ellie burrowed into her blankets, mindlessly scrolling through social media. The photos she posted sprawled before her: fireworks, ocean waves, a fiery dance. None featured people, yet her phone's gallery was full of today’s memories—pictures of her and Jack, including the unexpected shot taken when he lifted her at the pool. A stranger’s hands must have captured them, unbeknownst to Jack.

In the photograph, his arms held her aloft, one of hers gripping a glow stick, the other resting on his shoulder as they locked eyes. The backdrop of the night sky glittered with fireworks and stars, but none shone as brilliantly as their gazes, reflecting the cosmic dance of light.

It was a beautiful, intimate picture—not one meant for public view. Ellie continued scrolling through social media, a heavy sigh escaping her lips. Jack...of all people, the son of James. A sense of bittersweet regret laced her thoughts. Realizing where her mind was wandering, she pulled the blanket over her head in irritation. Enough thinking.

Tossing and turning, Ellie finally succumbed to a restless sleep, plagued by fragmented, kaleidoscopic dreams, leaving her void of energy come morning. Listlessly, she ambled to the living room for a glass of water, her ears catching the familiar rhythm of splashing from the pool. Of course, it was Jack, diligently swimming as he had each morning for the past six days.

A soft realization hit Ellie: tomorrow, they'd have to head back—it was the conclusion of their vacation. She hesitated by the pool, drawn to the droplets cascading in the morning light. Sliding down beside the water, she let her feet dangle in its cool embrace.

Noticing her presence, Jack swam over, floating and tilting his head up to her. "Come to call me for breakfast?"

His sharp features, now alight with a smile, glinted like morning stars, a stark contrast to the stormy mood she’d dragged him from. Ellie’s attention drifted as she replied, "We'll be leaving tomorrow."

The brightness in Jack's eyes dimmed instantly, his brow furrowing. "Aren’t I supposed to stay 'home' for two weeks?"

Ellie sighed, "You’re aware that it’s called 'home,' right?" Jack snorted, diving back into the water, splashing waves bigger than before.

Ellie propped her chin in her hands, eyes thoughtful, her tone measured. "Besides, your father’s returning. Try not to always clash with him."

The water's surface stilled, an unbroken sea. Ellie’s gaze had shifted, following the lazy dance of her fingers as her voice softened. "Be a good kid, Jack."

Silence reigned, only the wind and distant chime of wind bells played their melody. But suddenly, a familiar hand gripped Ellie's ankle under the water—warm, strong, unmistakably his.

Presuming a prank, she frowned, "Jack—ah!"

With a rush of water, Ellie found herself plunged unexpectedly into the pool, her reflex to hold her breath delayed.

The watery blur mirrored an endless dream, its bounds undetectable. Ellie could swim, but panic stifled her ability. She struggled for calm, steering toward the light.

The grasp released her ankle, and though she longed to scold him, she prioritized surfacing first.

Breaking the water’s seal with outstretched palms, relief was fleeting. Her waist was encircled anew, dragged beneath as if a spectral force claimed her.

Ellie’s fury spat a stream of bubbles, her resistance ineffectual against Jack’s unyielding strength.

Pinned against the pool's wall, their faces drew near. Her vision cleared in the borrowed breath—his touch firm, his eyes blazing, verging on igniting beneath water.

Ellie shook her head, trying in vain to evade his lips. But Jack’s kiss deepened, his tongue insistent, and the overwhelming claustrophobia transformed into a stolen salvation.

Trapped underwater, caught within his embrace, there was nowhere to run.

Water surface shimmered, tempered now by the dawn’s tender light—an intimate serenade.

Resurfacing with a sudden splash, Jack deposited a drenched Ellie onto the pool’s edge. Her form dripped water, hair tangled across her face, her expression unreadable.

Jack remained in the water, lips tight, gaze downcast, stretching a hand to brush her hair aside.

“Smack!”

The sharp slap fractured the silence. Jack’s head snapped sideways.

Ellie’s strike was fierce, leaving him tasting blood on his tongue. Despite this, Jack's face was inscrutably calm, devoid of anger or hurt.

Looking up, his eyes reverent, unwavering as if beholding a deity. Ellie, seething, didn’t spare him a glance, her kick landing on Jack's chest forcefully.

"Crazy!"

The water closed over him, her outburst the last echo lingering in the air.

Jack let himself sink back into the pool, her wide-eyed gaze underwater replaying in his head—shock, anger, confusion.

A world, once stable, now crumbled—a pillar shattered by his own hands.

Regret had no part; touching his lips, a strange, satisfied smile crept upon them. 

“Ellie.”

He mouthed her name in the silence beneath waves.

Now, he thought, you finally see me.