"I don't want to cry in front of you."

That's what she told him

Her eyes watering like a fountain

A beautiful fountain that is

Cheeks red like a ripe fresh tomato right off the vine

"Why not?" he replied

"Because...I look bad when I cry."

She had to cover her face

"It's okay," he told her

"No...it's not. I'm a mess."

They stood there by the pier off the beach

As comical as it was, the sun shining over them

The sun setting over the horizon with blistering colours

"I'm sure we'll get through this," he reminded her

She paused

A tear streaming down her face

Slightly smudging her mascara

The ocean wind blowing in her hair

"We'll?" she asked, taken aback by his plural statement

"Yes...you and me."

She paused again, feeling her heart skip a beat

"I'm too emotional though. You'll be sick of me."

"I could never be sick of you," he replied

The waves crashed into the pier of the beach

The summer heat pouring over them

The salt from the water brewing upon their presence

"We'll get through this," he reminded again

He placed his finger upon her cheek

Wiping away another tear

And he meant every single word he said

Because she was just so damn pretty when she cried