They plunged into the ocean with a splash, the icy shock of the water stealing her breath. As she surfaced, sputtering, she pushed her wet hair out of her face, her glare sharp enough to pierce steel. "Are you insane?"
Simon emerged beside her, laughing—a deep, unrestrained laugh that was so rare it left Stella momentarily speechless.
"You should've seen your face," he said, his laughter echoing over the waves.
"Simon!" she yelled, splashing water at him. "What is wrong with you?"
"Relax, little fish," he said, grinning as he swam effortlessly closer. "Trust me, this is worth it."
Her anger began to dissolve as she caught the glint of excitement in his eyes. Simon rarely showed this side of himself—carefree, almost boyish.
"Look down," he said, his voice soft but filled with anticipation.
Before she could respond, Simon tugged her gently beneath the surface. The cool water enveloped them, and Stella kept her eyes, curious about what had him so entranced.
Then she saw them.
Dolphins.
A pod of sleek, graceful dolphins danced through the water, their movements effortless, fluid, and mesmerizing. Their silvery bodies glimmered under the light filtering from above, each arc and flip like poetry in motion.
Stella's breath hitched—not from fear, but from pure awe. The sight was ethereal, like something from a dream she never wanted to end.
She turned her head, her gaze meeting Simon's. He was already watching her, a smile tugging at his lips—a soft, genuine smile that made her heart skip.
When they finally surfaced, Stella swam closer to him, her eyes still wide with wonder.
"How is it?" Simon asked, his voice low, almost nervous, as if her answer mattered more than it should.
Instead of replying, Stella wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace. The water rippled softly around them, cocooning them in their own little world.
"I love it, Simon," she whispered against his shoulder, her voice trembling with emotion.
Simon froze for a moment before his arms circled her waist, drawing her closer. His hand found its way to her hair, gently unraveling the tie that held it in place. The strands fell like cascading waves, flowing freely down her back, mirroring the sea around them.
"You look like you belong to this world," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the sound of the waves.
Stella pulled back just enough to look at him, her cheeks flushed, her eyes shimmering with gratitude and something deeper. For the first time in a long while, she felt truly seen.
"When you were sixteen, I eavesdropped on one of your conversations with Mallory," Simon said, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. Stella turned to him, curiosity flickering in her eyes.
"You said you wanted to fall in love, enjoy life, and have the most romantic boyfriend or husband. A few days later, I saw a small kid steal your purse while you were working part-time. The police caught him, but you let him go," he added, his tone softening.
Stella tilted her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips as she recalled the memory.
"You're naive, sweet, kind, selfless," Simon continued, his voice growing heavier. "You're everything I'm not. And I had this selfish thought—what would happen if someone like you became my light?"
He paused, his gaze steady on hers, as if searching for a reaction. "I know this sounds messed up, but it's the truth. I may not be your knight in shining armor, but I will be the one who would destroy anything for you."
Stella's heart swelled, and a faint blush crept across her cheeks. She held his gaze, unwavering. "I never wanted a knight in shining armor, Simon. All I've ever wanted is you by my side."
Simon's lips curled into a rare smile, a flicker of something raw and unguarded in his expression. But the moment didn't last long.
"Why would you like me?" whispered Stella, her voice barely audible over the gentle lapping of the waves against the yacht. Yet, Simon heard her as clearly as if she had shouted.
He turned to face her, his expression soft but serious, his piercing eyes locked onto hers. For a moment, he said nothing, letting the weight of her words settle between them.
"Why wouldn't I?" he finally replied, his voice calm yet firm. He stepped closer, the space between them shrinking. "You think you're ordinary, Stella, but you're not. You're resilient, kind, and full of life. Even after everything you've been through, you still find a way to smile, to forgive, to hope. That's rare."
Stella looked away, her cheeks tinged with pink. "I don't feel rare," she murmured.
Simon tilted her chin up sharply, his grip firm yet careful, forcing her to meet his gaze. The intensity in his eyes was almost suffocating, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths. "You don't see it, do you?" he said, his voice low, almost a growl. The frustration in his tone was palpable, but there was something darker beneath it—something raw and unrelenting. "You've done something no one else has ever dared to do. You made me feel."
His words hung in the air like a dagger poised to strike, and Stella felt her breath hitch, her pulse racing. There was no warmth in his gaze now, only an unyielding hunger that sent a shiver down her spine.
"I don't just like you, Stella," he continued, stepping closer, his presence engulfing her. "It's not some simple affection or fleeting fascination. It's deeper—darker. You've consumed me in ways I never thought possible."
Her lips parted, a shaky exhale escaping as she struggled to form a coherent thought. But he wasn't finished.
"You've made me want things—need things—that I didn't think I could ever deserve," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, deadly soft. "You've become my obsession, Stella. My light in a world where I've only ever known shadows. And that light…" His grip tightened ever so slightly, his lips curling into a dangerous smirk. "I'll do whatever it takes to keep it. Even if it means destroying everything—and everyone—around us."
Stella's heart pounded against her ribcage, her chest rising and falling in rapid breaths. She felt the weight of his words, the gravity of his confession, and the chilling sincerity in his tone.
"Simon…" she began, her voice trembling, but he cut her off with a dark chuckle, his hand sliding away from her chin, only to linger just inches from her cheek.
"Don't speak," he murmured, his voice softer now but no less commanding. "You don't have to understand it yet. But one day, Stella, you will. Because I've already made my choice
"Now let's get out of here before we become a meal for the sharks," he said, his tone shifting back to its usual teasing edge.
Stella laughed, and together, they swam back to the yacht, climbing aboard as the sun began its descent, painting the horizon in hues of gold and crimson. The unspoken connection between them lingered in the salty breeze, growing stronger with every passing moment.