{ "Sunsets are like God's paintings in the sky."}
We did not speak for a while after that. We just stayed.
Freyr sat beside me, knees drawn up, arms loosely slung around them. His eyes were fixed on the waves, watching the tide roll in and out like it might carry the weight of his grief back out to sea. I did not press him. Some silences do not need to be broken they just need to be shared.
The sky had started to soften with the promise of dusk, painting the edges of the clouds in gold and lavender. A breeze lifted off the ocean, cooler now, and I could feel the drop in temperature against my damp shirt. Practicality tugged at me.
"Come on," I said quietly, nudging his leg with mine. "There is a dry patch near the hidden rock. Let us build a fire before we freeze to death looking poetic."
He did not answer with words, just a small, reluctant huff more breath than laugh, but he followed me.
