All characters are 18 years of age. Fair warning about graphic, sexual content.

( Dedicated to a special someone ;)

You started visiting my area of the beach later in the day. Towards the end of my patrol. Infrequently at first, but more regularly as the evenings grew shorter. I didn't take much notice of you at first. Just another worker, I assumed, from the jungle of concrete offices a short drive away. Coming to wind down and relax after a day of the rat race. Making the most of the setting sun.

My area of patrol was never too busy but people tended to stay later than normal. Due to the amenities, like the volleyball nets, public barbecues, and firepits. Our first interaction wasn't all too pleasant. While collecting the 'Caution - Dangerous Currents' signs I walked passed you. You were wearing your bathing suit and I noticed the beer bottles. I stopped and, half joking half serious, I asked "I hope you're not planning on swimming after all those?".

You looked up at me. Behind large, round sunglasses I could sense an expression of irritation. Standing over you, I cast a long shadow blocking the last of the warming sun from your exposed skin. You didn't say a word, only took another swig from your bottle and repositioned your slender body back into the sun. I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head before making my way back to my Lifeguard Station.

I announced over the crackly PA system the end of the Lifeguard service for the day and started to close up. As if you were waiting for your cue, I watched you knock back the last of the bottle, stand up, and make your way down to the water in your one piece. Walking out into the dark water, deeper and deeper. Before turning to look back at the beach.

As your visits became more frequent, you seemed to settle into a pattern. Find a quiet spot on the beach. Drink a few bottles of beer. Walk out into the water, stay there a while, and look back to the beach watching the other people go by. What you did afterwards, I never knew. I was long gone before you exited the water. What did change though, I noticed, was your swimsuit. It became increasingly more revealing.

Whenever I past you, I'd give you a nod or a wave. In the beginning, you ignored me at best or gave me a look of disdain at worst. Nonetheless, I figured I would kill you with kindness. Slowly but surely, my perseverance paid off. My big smiles and greetings softened you. Eventually, you started returning my waves. One evening surrounded by more bottles than normal, I even got a "how are you?".

But what never changed was, like clockwork, you would walk out into the shallow water before sitting down. Deep enough that the water reached your belly button. There you would stay, arms down by your side, with your hands presumably in your lap. My prevailing theory was that you were innocently meditating as the salty water lapped against your skin.

This evening though, you were later than normal. I had already collected the hazard signs before you settled into your spot on the beach. I was staying late after duty hours to do an inventory check after a busy day. But even in the dying light, the tiny Brazilian bikini bottoms, tied at your hips, caught my attention. The small piece of fabric purely symbolic at this point. As you walked past my station, you gave an uncharacteristically friendly wave. When you removed your beach shawl it was hard to tell what top accompanied it. Your hair covered your shoulders while you were positioned with your back to me.

Every so often I look up and around. There you are, sitting with your face to the sun sipping on your beer. One after another, the empty bottles are stabbed into the sand. As I turn to lock up I notice you're no longer sitting in your throne of bottles. My eyes trace a path of footsteps to the water where your long brunette hair is falling down your back. The water gradually rising towards your barely covered bum cheeks. As you walk right into a rip current.