mona lisa , chris sturniolo

21 | can you please stay?

♫ haunted / taylor swift ♫
☆
holding my breath
won't lose you again
come on, don't leave me like this
you're all i wanted
can't breathe whenever you're gone
can't turn back now, i'm haunted

🍊 🍊 🍊

| real life | imessage |

tw: description of boat accident during storm. post nightmare anxiety and mention of deceased family members

real life

The ocean air is crisp against my face, the taste of salt brushing against my tongue. Wind whips my hair back from my face, and despite the fact that my cheeks are numb with cold, a huge smile is stretched across my face.

"Look at the sunset, Boo!" I crouch down beside my family's Bernese Mountain Dog, wrapping my arm around him. "Isn't it pretty?"

Baloo's tongue hangs out of his mouth as his big, dark eyes follow my pointing finger to the sky line rimmed with orange and pink.

"That's the best one we've seen in a while," my dad's voice echoes from behind me and I turn to grin at him. He is dressed in shorts and a windbreaker, his feet bare as they always are whenever we are on our sailboat. His dark hair, only just starting to show signs of grey, is sticking out in every direction and he has a smudge of grease across his forehead, but his eyes are bright. He is always happiest out on the water.

"It's definitely amazing," I agree, turning back to look at the brightly lit skyline. "What's Uncle Peter doing?"

"He's getting dinner ready," Dad drops into the seat beside mine, throwing his arm around me. "I'm glad you came out with us today, Bryn."

My dad and his brother bought this boat together twenty years ago. They grew up on the water with their parents and their passion for sailing never faded. Dad and Uncle Peter come out at least a couple times a month when the weather allows it, and my cousins, siblings, and I like to join them when we can. This time, it's just the old men and me.

"Me too," I grin at him. "I love being out here."

Dad presses a kiss to my forehead and I can feel his smile against my skin. "I love having you out here."

As I run my hand through Baloo's fur, my eyes catch on dark clouds starting to roll in. "Is it supposed to rain tonight?"

Dad follows my gaze, his eyes narrowing at the cloud. "No, it wasn't."

We watch the clouds for a moment. Within the span of a minute, the world seems to grow significantly darker as the clouds move closer, and out of nowhere, the sky opens up and begins to pour.

"Ah, shit," dad jumps up, jogging down the stairs into the cabin. "Peter, we should head out!" I hear him say to his brother. "Seems like a storm is rolling in."

Baloo whines, burying his face in my sweater. I laugh, rubbing his head. "It's just a little rain, buddy. You can go inside."

Baloo jumps off the bench, trotting downstairs with no complaints. My eyes scan the open horizon, not seeing any other boats. We're probably about only half an hour off shore, but with the rain falling in droughts, the city lights are washed out, leaving us in almost total darkness now that the sun has slipped below the horizon.

Dad and Uncle Peter clamber back upstairs, ready to sail us back to the marina. "Bryn, go downstairs," dad requests calmly.

I don't argue, knowing they don't need my help up top and I'll just be in the way. As I make my way downstairs, the boat rocks, sending me crashing into the wall, and Baloo barks from the bottom of the stairs. "You're okay, Boo, it's just a little wavy," I carefully step down the last few stairs, crouching to pet Baloo reassuringly. "We'll be back at shore in no time."