When their heartbeats and breathing sync, it's better than a dance. It's a glorious chance for the whole world to make sense, because the whole world is the two of them.

While they sit, Ver quietly describes the scene for him. They've been to the beach before, and she told him how it looked this morning when they arrived to set up. But this time, while they're sitting quiet, she takes his hand and sketches the scene on his palm: here's the cliffs, here's the sand, here's the high tide line; this is the bonfire, and us, and everything. People milling about are dots and squiggles, the lightest touches and caresses against his oh so sensitive skin. And while she draws she talks, labeling everything in a low voice meant only for his ears.

Ver doesn't get up immediately when he starts shucking clothes. Let the woman enjoy the view for a moment. He is so very handsome and she never ever gets tired of looking. "Not for swimming. That'd be impractical." The hat comes off first, weighed down by her bag so it doesn't blow away. Then she stands, shaking the sand off her sarong before untieing the knot and unwinding it. He can enjoy the show in his own way.

It's a little piece of paradise for the two of them, these moments when they get to live normal lives.