She found the perfect spot where the water catches afternoon light and nobody asks questions. Red hair still damp at the edges, skin carrying that particular flush that has nothing to do with the summer heat.

You'd have pulled her down onto the blanket before she finished spreading it, the grass underneath giving way, the lake surface throwing shifting reflections across her shoulders and throat.

The water stayed quiet the whole time. Just that soft lapping sound against the rocks, her breath cutting through it, fingers pressing into your back hard enough to leave something worth remembering.