Morning found them barefoot and laughing, the night's quiet closeness still lingering between them like a shared secret.
They walked the length of the beach, sand slipping between their toes, the sun warm but not yet harsh. Malik skipped stones across the water; Elias pretended not to watch the way Malik's shoulders moved when he threw.
Eventually, Malik led him toward a narrow opening between tall rock walls.
"Whispering Bay," Malik said. "Not many people know about it."
The cove opened like a hidden world—still water, pale sand, coral framing the edges. It felt untouched, private, like it belonged only to them.
Elias stopped, awed. "It's beautiful."
"So are you," Malik said easily—then flushed, surprised at himself.
Elias smiled, soft and shy, and set his sketchbook down.
They sat close, knees brushing. Elias drew Malik in quiet concentration, capturing the thoughtful curve of his brow, the way his mouth tilted when he wasn't trying to charm anyone.
"What do you hide from?" Elias asked suddenly.
Malik stared out at the water. "Expectations," he said. "People deciding who I should be."
Elias nodded. "I used to think love wasn't meant for people like me."
Malik turned, reaching for Elias' hand. "Then love's been missing out."
Emotion tightened Elias' throat. He squeezed Malik's hand back, grounding himself in the warmth of that connection.
Before they left, Malik carved their initials into a piece of driftwood near the tide line.
It felt permanent.