Dimi Cruze | Mischievous sunshine.

The Florida sun was relentless.

After hours of traveling to Maréa Bay, dragging your luggage through unfamiliar streets, and trying to figure out where exactly your distant relative had told you to go, you were desperately in need of two things: air conditioning and something cold to drink.

Fortunately, a small café near the beach caught your eye.

Blue Hour.

The place looked almost too pretty to be real, with its open windows, sun-faded blue décor, and the distant sound of waves rolling onto shore. A little bell chimed above the door as you stepped inside, greeted by the smell of freshly brewed coffee and something sweet baking in the kitchen.

"Be with you in a sec!"

A young man behind the counter was busy trying to balance a tray of drinks while arguing with someone over the phone.

"No, yiayia, I am NOT starving. I literally ate twenty minutes ago—yes, fruit counts as food, didn't you always say that? ...Okay, fine, I'll come by later. Love you!"

He hung up, sighed dramatically, and turned toward you.

His expression immediately brightened.

"Hey! Welcome to Blue Hour." He flashed you a warm smile, setting the tray down before leaning against the counter. His chestnut curls were a little messy, his tanned skin dusted with freckles, and his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. "Sorry about that. Family emergency.. y'know, συγγενείς.(relatives). Apparently, eating a banana doesn't qualify as having lunch anymore and my grandma thinks I have máti which basically means I'm cursed."

He chuckled, then reached for a menu.

"So! First time here?"

Before you could answer, he paused.

"Oh, wait." His eyes flickered over your luggage, then back to your face. "You're not from around here, are you?"

There was no judgment in his voice, just genuine curiosity.

"Let me guess. Vacation? Visiting family? Running away to become a mysterious beach hermit?"

He grinned.

"Actually, don't answer that last one. We have enough of those already."

He straightened up and offered you his hand across the counter.

"Dimitrios Cruz. Dimi, unless you're my mother or I've done something wrong." His smile turned a little sheepish. "Which, honestly, happens more often than I'd like to admit."

After learning you'd be staying in Maréa Bay for the summer, his face lit up with renewed enthusiasm.

"No way! You're staying here?" He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the counter. "Okay, first things first. You absolutely need a proper introduction to this town. The good beaches, the terrible tourist traps, the places with the best food—"

He stopped himself, laughing.

"Sorry. I do this. I get excited."

Then he glanced at the menu again.

"Right, coffee. Or something cold? My personal recommendation is the iced vanilla latte, but the mango lemonade is pretty amazing, too. And if you're hungry, we've got pastries in the back."

He studied you for a moment, his expression thoughtful.

"Actually, you look like you've had a pretty long day. First one's on me."

Before you could protest, he was already reaching for a cup.

"Don't worry about it. Consider it your official Maréa Bay welcome gift."

He flashed you another one of those ridiculously easy smiles.

"Besides, if you're going to be here all summer, I might as well make a good first impression, right?"

A pause.

"...Although, if you tell everyone I'm nice, I'll have a reputation to maintain. So let's keep this between us."

He winked.

And just like that, your first day in Maréa Bay began with a free drink, a stranger who talked like you'd known him for years, and the distinct feeling that this summer might turn out to be a lot more interesting than you'd expected.

The sun was barely above the horizon when Dimi decided that today was the day he was going to teach you how to surf.

Whether you'd actually agreed to this or he'd simply interpreted your passing comment about wanting to try it as a binding contract was still up for debate.

"Okay, okay, listen." Dimi planted his surfboard in the sand and turned toward you, pushing his chestnut curls away from his forehead. He was already wearing his usual stupidly bright smile, looking far too pleased with himself for someone who'd dragged you out of bed this early. "Rule number one: don't panic. Rule number two: if you fall, try to fall gracefully. Rule number three—"

He paused.

"Actually, there is no rule three. I just wanted to sound professional."

He laughed at his own joke before grabbing his board and heading toward the water.

The morning was beautiful. The waves rolled gently toward the shore, the sand was still cool beneath your feet, and the beach was blissfully empty apart from a few distant joggers.

Dimi, meanwhile, was apparently determined to make this the most entertaining morning of your life.

"All right, asteraki (superstar). Let's see what you've got."

The first attempt was a disaster.

The second was somehow worse.

By the third, Dimi was laughing so hard that he had to brace himself against his surfboard.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I swear I'm trying to be supportive!" he wheezed, wiping water from his face. "It's just—God, your expression when that wave took you out—"

He caught the look you gave him and immediately straightened.

"Right. Serious instructor mode. Got it."

He held out his hand to help you up, his grin softening into something warmer.

"Come here. Let me show you properly."

This time, he positioned the board in the shallow water and demonstrated how to balance your weight. He explained where to place your feet, how to keep your knees bent, and when to push yourself upright.

You tried to follow his instructions.

You really did.

But apparently, your balance had other plans.

Dimi caught you before you could topple sideways, one arm wrapping securely around your waist.

"Whoa, easy there."

For a moment, neither of you moved.

His hand remained against your side, fingers spread to keep you steady. The other rested lightly on your arm. With the water reaching your thighs, the two of you were standing considerably closer than either of you probably intended.

Dimi glanced down at you.

Then he smiled.

"Well, this is one way to keep you on the board."

He sounded perfectly amused, but there was a faint pinkness creeping across his cheeks that hadn't been there a moment ago.

"Okay, so..." He cleared his throat, attempting to return to his instructor voice. "Your balance is a little off. I'm gonna have to hold you here until you get the hang of it."

His hand shifted slightly at your waist as he adjusted your stance.

"Like this. Knees bent. Shoulders relaxed."

A pause.

"You're allowed to breathe, by the way."

His grin returned when he noticed how close you were standing.

"What? Am I distracting you?"

He laughed, but the sound came out a little softer than before.

"Because, for the record, I'm an excellent teacher. Very patient. Very professional."

He leaned closer, just enough for his voice to drop beneath the sound of the waves.

"And I definitely don't have a problem with you holding onto me if it helps you balance."

His eyes met yours.

For once, Dimi seemed to realize exactly what he'd said.

"...Right. Surfing. We're talking about surfing."

He turned his face away, laughing under his breath as he tried to hide his smile.

"Come on, sunshine. One more try. I promise I'll catch you if you fall."

A beat passed before he added, unable to resist himself:

"Although, honestly? I might be starting to enjoy that part a little too much.."

...