The beach house is just as it's always been—warm, familiar, the cozy scent of the ocean mixed with old wood and sunscreen lingering in the air. But with Theo beside me, it feels different. There's an undercurrent I can't ignore, no matter how hard I try. 

I'm sitting cross-legged on the worn couch while Theo's sprawled out next to me, his arm casually draped across the backrest, fingers just inches from my shoulder.

Lewis and Becca are across from us, lost in a debate about which snacks are "bonfire essentials." But my focus is elsewhere, pulled into every small movement Theo makes, the way his knee keeps brushing mine, his soft chuckles filling the room. I'm trying so hard to ignore him, but it's nearly impossible with his gaze cutting my way every few seconds.

"So, Isla," Theo says, his voice carrying that mischievous lilt that always gets to me, "what's got you so deep in thought over there?"

I roll my eyes, looking down at my hands. "Oh, you know, just mentally preparing for another night of Lewis burning marshmallows. And probably myself, too."

He snickers, nudging me with his elbow. "Come on, I know there's more going on in that head of yours. You're practically zoned out."

"Well, I wouldn't have to zone out if you weren't sitting here bothering me," I quip, giving him a pointed look.

He grins, leaning in slightly, his face just close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating off of him. "Is that what I am to you? A bother?"

I scoff, leaning back. "Always have been, Dwyers."

"Oh, I don't buy that for a second," he says, a lazy smile spreading across his face. "You love having me around. Admit it."

I tilt my head, pretending to think it over. "Hmm, let me think... Nope. I'd say you're more like an annoying fly I can't get rid of."

Theo laughs, his eyes lighting up. "An annoying fly? Brutal." He pauses, clearly fighting back a smirk. "Maybe I'm the charming type of fly. You know, the one you secretly find endearing?"

I roll my eyes, suppressing a smile. "You wish."

Before I can say anything else, he casually stretches his arm over the back of the couch, his fingers brushing my shoulder in a way that feels all too intentional. I try to ignore the way it sends a rush of warmth through me, but he notices my reaction, his smirk widening.

"Relax, I'm just getting comfortable," he says, his tone innocent but his eyes anything but. "You're acting like I'm plotting something over here."

"Maybe you are," I say, giving him a challenging look. "You do have that scheming face."

He laughs, dropping his hand to his lap and shaking his head. "You know, you really do wound me, Isla."

"Somehow, I think you'll survive," I reply, unable to help the grin tugging at my lips.

Becca and Lewis finally finish their snack debate, standing up to head outside. Becca waves us over, her expression a little too smug. 

"You two coming, or are you going to keep... whatever this is going?"

I roll my eyes, standing up and tugging Theo by the arm to follow. 

"Relax, Bec. Let's get to the bonfire before you set the beach on fire."

The walk down to the beach feels different, somehow lighter yet charged with something I can't name. He keeps nudging me with his shoulder as we walk, teasingly, like he's trying to get a reaction out of me. I try to brush it off, even when he starts casually tossing bits of sand my way, his laughter growing each time I swat him off.

Finally, I turn to him, hands on my hips, trying to glare but failing miserably when he grins down at me. "Are you five? What's with the sand?"

"Just keeping you on your toes," he says, shrugging innocently.

"Well, you're gonna get sand in your face if you keep it up."

He raises an eyebrow, looking thoroughly amused. "Oh? I'd like to see you try."

It's all the encouragement I need. I bend down, grabbing a handful of sand and tossing it at him, watching as he yelps, brushing it off his shirt. He turns to me, a spark in his eyes, and before I know it, he's grabbed a handful himself, tossing it right back.

We end up chasing each other down the beach, laughing like little kids, until I finally stop, catching my breath, cheeks flushed and heart racing. Theo comes to a halt beside me, both of us grinning like idiots.

"Alright," he says, still catching his breath. "Truce?"

I hold out my hand, laughing. "Truce."

He takes my hand, and for a moment, neither of us lets go. There's a quiet between us now, something that feels different from the easy laughter of a moment ago. His thumb brushes over my knuckles, just once, and my breath hitches, but I quickly pull my hand back, trying to ignore the warmth lingering on my skin.

"Ready to head to the bonfire?" I say, keeping my tone as light as I can manage.

He chuckles, his eyes holding mine for a beat longer than necessary. "Lead the way... but just know, this isn't over."

"Oh, I'm shaking," I say, smirking as I turn and start walking.

The bonfire crackles and pops, the flames casting a warm glow over the group, but the real heat is coming from Becca and Lewis, who are standing off near the edge of the circle. I don't know how they do it, but every time they share a glance, I can practically feel the sparks flying

I lean back, feeling the cool sand beneath my fingers and the warmth of the fire in front of me. Theo sits beside me, his knee just brushing mine now and then, so subtle it could almost be accidental—if I didn't know him better.

Lewis strolls up, a cocky grin plastered on his face, holding a beer in one hand like he owns the place.

Without even looking at Becca, he grins and says, "Hey, Princess. You come to ruin my night, or just my mood?"

Becca's eyes go sharp in an instant. She narrows them and gives him a slow once-over.

"I swear to God, if you keep calling me that—"

Lewis cuts her off with a playful chuckle, still not looking at her.

"What? Princess suits you. It's cute. I like it."

"I don't like it," she bites back, stepping closer, her eyes narrowing even further. "I'm not your damn Princess."

Lewis glances over at her, as if considering her for the first time.

"Maybe you're right," he says with a smirk, "but it's too late. The nickname sticks."

Becca clenches her fists, doing her best to stay composed. "You know, for someone who claims to be so smart, you sure are an idiot."

Lewis shrugs, not bothered in the slightest. "It's a gift." He leans in slightly, his voice lowering, teasing. "I bet you miss me when I'm not around."

Becca's gaze is as cold as ice. "I miss you about as much as I miss stepping on a Lego in the middle of the night."

Lewis laughs, a loud, mocking sound that carries in the air. "Ouch, that stings, Princess. Guess I'll just have to make it up to you."

"By what, exactly?" she scoffs, rolling her eyes.

Lewis places his hands behind his head, acting like he's completely unaffected.

"I don't know, maybe I'll save you from a random wild animal attack or something. You know, just your usual hero material."

Becca crosses her arms and cocks an eyebrow. "I'd rather take my chances with the animal."

Lewis pretends to look heartbroken. "You wound me, Princess."

"I hope you do get wounded," she deadpans. "In fact, I'd personally volunteer to take the band-aid off."

Lewis raises his beer in mock salute. "Oh, I love it when you talk dirty."

Becca laughs, but there's no warmth in it. "You're disgusting."

Lewis just grins, unfazed. "Yeah, but you love it."

Becca groans and throws her hands up in exasperation. "I swear to God, if I don't kill you, someone else will."

He shrugs, still grinning. "Bet you'd miss me if I were gone."

Becca turns to me with a look of pure annoyance.

"Someone please just end me now," she mutters, and I can't help but chuckle.

The fire crackles, sending sparks into the air, and the night hums with laughter and conversation, but my focus keeps shifting between Becca and Lewis, the way they snap at each other like a live wire. They're like magnets, always pulling and pushing, never quite touching, but always there, somehow.

Lewis jabs a stick into the flames, but the marshmallow he's holding quickly bursts into flames. Becca, never missing a beat, smirks.

"Lewis, you're about to burn that thing to a crisp," I say, pointing at the fiery disaster.

Lewis jerks awake, eyes wide as he frantically blows on the marshmallow. The charred mess drops onto the sand, but he doesn't seem bothered. In fact, he grins wider, clearly unshaken.

"Perfect, right?" he says, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "The best s'mores are always half-burned."

Becca's laugh is sharp and knowing. "You're unbelievable."

"Oh, come on, Princess. You gotta admit, it's got character," Lewis teases, a wink tossed in for good measure.

"Amateur hour," Theo mutters, not even glancing over at them. He reaches across, swiping my stick from my hand without asking, and in one fluid motion, he slides a fresh marshmallow onto the tip, holding it carefully over the flames.

Before I can protest, he's already rotating it with an exactness that makes me roll my eyes. 

"Wow, such expertise," I tease, crossing my arms. "Is there anything you're not weirdly good at?"

Theo chuckles, his eyes flicking sideways toward me. "Roasting marshmallows is an art. Takes a special touch, Isla. You wouldn't understand."

"Oh, please," I say, swiping the stick back once it's perfect, golden brown. "You act like I've never roasted one before in my life."

I take a bite, the sweetness exploding in my mouth, and I can't help the tiny smile that tugs at my lips. Theo's watching me, his smile small but knowing.

"Good, right?" he asks, his voice light, but there's something in the way he watches me that makes the air feel different. A little too heavy, maybe, a little too close.

"Okay, fine," I mutter, half-smiling. "You win this round."

Theo shrugs, his gaze drifting back up to the stars above us. For a moment, there's silence between us, the kind that makes everything else fade away—the fire, the laughter, the teasing. Just the two of us, alone in a crowd.

"So," he says quietly, his voice barely above the crackling fire. "What's on your mind?"

The question catches me off guard, and I stare into the fire, trying to ignore the way his words pull at me. "Nothing much," I finally say. "Just... glad we're all here, I guess."

Theo's gaze shifts to the ground, fingers playing with the sand. "Yeah," he says, his voice low, almost thoughtful. "It's different this year. Feels like we don't have many of these nights left."

His words hang in the air, weighted and thick, but I can't bring myself to look at him. Instead, I focus on the fire, pretending his words didn't hit me as hard as they did.

 "True," I murmur. "Guess we should make the most of it."

Theo's quiet for a second, then he shifts slightly, the movement subtle but close enough that I can feel the heat of him, the shift of air between us. "You're right. We should."

The simple way he says it makes my heart skip a beat. I hate that he has this effect on me, but I can't help it. Every little movement, every glance feels like it's pushing us closer to something neither of us wants to acknowledge.

"So," Lewis interrupts, ever the distraction, "what's the plan? Ghost stories, or should we start looking for the nearest haunted house?"

Becca snorts, crossing her arms in front of her. "You know you'll be the first one screaming, Lewis."

Theo laughs, and I catch the soft, easy sound of it, but it's his eyes I focus on as he looks between them, then over at me, his smile small but undeniably knowing. "What do you think, Isla? Up for a little scare?"

I shrug, trying to play it cool, pretending I don't notice how his gaze lingers just a little longer than necessary. "I'm game if you are. Not sure I trust you to protect me if things get too spooky, though."

Theo's lips twitch at the corner, and there's something playful in his eyes now. "Who says I'd have to protect you? Maybe you'd end up protecting me."

The comment is light, but his tone is different, warmer, almost... tender? I shake the thought off, rolling my eyes and bumping his shoulder, but I can't seem to get rid of the way his words wrap around me.

"Oh, please," I tease, managing to laugh. "I'm not saving you from anything. You're on your own."

As the conversation shifts again, I can feel his presence beside me, steady and warm. There's this subtle tension in the air, unspoken but undeniable. Even as the others continue bickering, my thoughts keep drifting back to Theo, his steady gaze, his casual closeness.

It's a quiet kind of chaos, and somehow, itfeels like it's just beginning