Marina cou

ain to the exact moment he sat next to her. Next to her. At her table. As if it were the most natural thing in the

ng important had happened, as if the day didn't end there,

now they spoke to her differently. They carried with them an image, a voice, a green gaze that she couldn't get out of her head. The night wind blew in

vi

emed powerful. C

, his large hands, and his way of looking. An impossible mix of firmness and sweetness, authority and tenderness. It seemed incredible that a single encounter could leave her with so many sensations.Not even an hour had passed when, upon arriving home, she jotted his number down in her cel

again. Perhaps it was just a fleeting scene, a different afternoon that would later dissolve like sea

g over the back of a chair. The smell of the sea was still present, permeating her skin, her clothes, the entire apartment. But it wasn't just the sea. It was him. He was

e now had "a direct line to the law." His response was a light laugh

by the wind... and him, with that firm demeanor, asking her naturally if he could join her. As if they knew each other. As if he'd been looking for her among the tables. She

t about An

t persistent shadow. And although they never said anything concrete, Marina knew he harbored feelings for her. She saw it in his attentions, in the small, ill-disguised j

comparing. It wa

eep intuition that told her this man wasn't just another one. That his presence hadn't been a coincide

. One of those where she jotted down random ideas, scenes for stories, or phrases that came to

mission. They don't ask if you're ready. They simply touch the

ll felt the salt on her skin, bu

dn't know if she would see him again, if he thought of her the same way, if that spark had a destiny or woul

with an image: two green eyes looking at he