Nick and I were sitting dangerously close to the Californian ocean. The shore was right on our breath, our bodies stretched out in the soft white sand, arms reaching out so the tide would come up to our elbows and wet our arms. I had the right headphone, Nick had the left. We were listening to a new playlist, one of our two. Nick fell asleep, dark hair tousled with the salty breeze. He looked relaxed next to me, full, no holes or lost organs. there weren't any dark circles under his eyes, no chapped lips, and his color was thicker, less pale and more sea God. He was killing me with his striking features.

I was very much awake, very much aware of the water and how cool it was, how relaxed Nick had become in its presence. Nicholas Dean Arson.

I cut my hair, short, nearly shoulder length with choppy layers; Nick loved it. The blond locks were less annoying, but still existent and still dead-set on getting into my face and mouth. Chasity and I facetimed every day for the first two weeks - that number dwindled to once every two or three weeks. Gavin and Ellie were dating, and it wasn't overly discrete. She had worked some of her wildness into him, public affection becoming one of their favorite crimes. Meanwhile, Gavin mellowed her out well, widened the arch of her character and brought her down to earth. In short, she wasn't such a whore. It was a healthy relationship for the two of them. Nora had Cacknee, and some british boy who she skyped with night after night and developed dark circles for. Jericho was still fighting for a girl he couldn't win back - secretly, it was probably killing him inside. Jericho was strong though, and he had Nick. They were like brothers. I was 'married' in, via dating status.

Nick and I were considered a thing. I didn't necessarily call him my boyfriend, nor he with girlfriend, but we always had some special way of referencing to each other. He was simply mine, and I was his angel. It really couldn't improve further than that.

The first time I realized I really, overwhelmingly loved Nick was laying that close to the ocean.

I had told him multiple times before that I loved him, and I did a little bit, but that was the moment when it all crashed down on me. I patted his side, kissed his cheek and whispered him awake. He looked at me lazily, smokey grey eyes rolling, " morning Angel." His voice was always the best when he was first waking up: coarse, low, deep in the throat, and soft, like wind chimes.

" it's almost nine." I said, motioning to the dark grey sky and blending pastel colors on the horizon. He didn't pay attention to that; he was busy looking at me.

" Good existence, Angel. It's always a pleasure waking up next to you." though there was hinted sarcasm, he meant it. Something about Nick seemed fuller after we moved to California. It was like all the holes had been filled. Yes, childish, cocky, old rock playing Nick was still there, but I also had, childlike, humble, indie music streaming Nicholas Dean Arson to level him out.

" ditto." I said, with a wink. He rolled his eyes chuckling.

I continued, " i just wanted to say I love you."

He nodded, " I love you too, Angel." He was drifting off to sleep again, another little catnap. I took out our earphones.

" no, Nick. I mean it, like, I love you. You're stuck with me now. forever, if you will." I was trying to capture his attention - it worked.

He looked at me with the curiosity of a baby, the knowing of a wise man, and the love of hopeless romantic, " one day, Carter Grace, I'm going to marry you." He pressed a kiss to my lips, one I met halfway. He pulled back, " I love you, I think I have for a lot longer than I realize." He smiled, " I'm glad the feeling's mutual."

I smiled, too, because Nick understood and it felt like the world was at peace.

art: I pursued art. Turns out I have something called talent. It's a rare thing, but everyone has it somewhere. People wanted me to design their album covers, their book jackets, their webpage and install myself into galleries. I was the designated cover artist for whatever music Nick wrote. He wrote music. He wanted to be on the radio, or in an orchestra, or something. As long as it was music. That's what he was going to college for.

" before that day comes." I said, " can we go on another road trip?"

" yeah Angel." He mumbled, half asleep, " but this time you're paying for the gas."

" ... deal." I nodded. I would have shook on it. Too late.

Nick was already asleep. I rested my head on his collarbone, a familiar spot that I fit in perfectly, and fell asleep with him.