We are sitting on the shore, watching the sunrise. The sky fills with soft pink and golden hues, transitioning into bright orange stripes, as if the universe itself is igniting from the first rays. They pierce through the clouds, cutting through them, and gilding the horizon. The water reflects all this magnificence, making the landscape even more captivating.
Katrin stands up, and I involuntarily hold my breath. She rises like part of the sunrise, her figure standing out against the fiery-orange sky. Reflections of the sun play in her braided hair, creating an aura of glowing fire around her. A gentle breeze wraps around her slender figure. Every movement of hers is filled with lightness, as if she is dancing on the shore, guided by the rhythm of the sunrise.
She walks up to a tree, takes out a cigarette, and lights it. As the smoke swirls into the air, it seems that light reflects in her eyes, creating the feeling that she is not just a person but a miracle, intertwined with nature. Her face has a gentle confidence, and the slight smile on her lips tells me that she feels wonderful at that moment. Nothing can tarnish her carefree state.
I lie down on the sand and, not taking my eyes off her, watch. The girl sits beside me, smoking, and with every inhale, her eyes become more dreamy, and her skin takes on a golden hue, just like the sunrise itself. At that moment, amidst the sound of waves and the hazy morning rays, she is irresistible, like the dawn itself, illuminating everything around, leaving only a sense of peaceful beauty and captivating magic.
I stretch and gently touch her back, as if trying to pass a piece of that beautiful light that warms both of us.
"You already know that smoking is harmful, especially for girls and their bodies," my words, though seemingly weightless, dissolve into the air, but I feel that she hears them nonetheless.
Rebel Girl turns her head towards me, and in her eyes, like in a lake, reflects the entire palette of the sunrise. With every movement of her gaze, the world becomes clearer, and I can't take my eyes off her, as if all this beauty could disappear at any moment.
"I know. I'm not planning to have children yet, so I can afford a bit of badness."
She takes a drag, and her gaze becomes thoughtful, as if she wants to say something but can't find the words.
"Do you want children?"
"In the future, yes," her gaze is pensive but sincere at the same time. "And do you want to volunteer as a father, since you're asking?"
"I don't know. I'm not sure what kind of mother you'd make... Would you be able to give up your fun life, full of unexpected adventures and carefree evenings, and dedicate yourself to family life?"
I know that she is determined and independent, living a life without commitments, attachments, full of fun and freedom. But does all of this really mean something to her?
Katrin remained silent, took a drag from the cigarette, and I noticed her fingers trembling. It wasn't from the cold, but from some hidden tension.
When she finally finished smoking, she put out the cigarette and placed the butt in my pocket, as if leaving something there that was more than just trash.
"I don't want to litter, I'll take it and throw it away later, okay?" she said without looking me in the eye.
The girl approached and lowered herself onto me, her body, as always, warm and soft, pressing against me. I felt her breath steady, as her hand slid over my chest, barely touching my skin. Every touch of hers was gentle, as if she was trying to show me something important, something bigger than just physical contact.
"I'm ready to do anything for my children. Including leaving my current life. I'm ready to start from scratch if it's for them."
I hugged her tighter, trying to hold on to this tender, yet unsettling moment. In her eyes was the shadow of something undefined, but I knew she was ready to change her life for something important. Listening to her, I felt every word, spoken with determination, penetrating me. It was sincere, real. She, with her free spirit, was ready to give everything for motherhood. I couldn't help but believe her. This moment was different — she spoke as though it was the most important thing to her. I understood — she was ready to take this step, not afraid of change.
I wonder, could we become a family, live together with children? In my imagination, it began to take clear shape. I pictured our apartment as Katrin's apartment. I would wake up and see her smile first, she would be lying next to me in warm sheets, her hair on the pillow. I would feel her warmth, hear her breath as she fell asleep. Our home would be filled not with silence but with children's footsteps and laughter, the joyful voices of children.
Is this really possible? These thoughts swirled in my mind like a whirlwind, and I realized they were beginning to control me. My feelings were pushing me forward, not allowing me to stop. But I understood that I couldn't get lost in dreams. I risked scaring her — my Rebel Girl, always ready for new turns. Could she really accept me, our love, and children in her life? Was she truly ready for these changes?
"What do you mean, your Rebel Girl?"
I froze suddenly, shocked by my own thoughts. I was starting to scare myself. Falling for a girl I barely knew in a couple of days? This was something completely new for me. I always thought I needed time to understand my feelings, but she… she changed everything. To fall for her rebellious yet so magnetic character… it turned out I was capable of that. I could be with her, I could build a future with her, a future that literally appeared before me like a bright star on the horizon.
We were lying next to each other, our bodies intertwined, and our hands were seeking each other in the dark silence. I gently stroked her back, her fingers glided over me as if trying to answer a silent question. Each of her breaths merged with my heartbeat, and her breath was like a gentle breeze, promising something more. We didn't talk much, but in that silence, there was a magic, elusive and warm, that made us stay close, without needing words. We both understood that this wasn't just physical closeness — it was something much more significant.
I don't want this moment to ever end. I want to stay in this state forever, feeling her warmth and the peace she brings into my life. We are like two halves that have found each other. We become part of something bigger, something that doesn't require explanations; it simply exists. But deep inside, I feel my mind trying to bring me back to reality. Heart and mind are at war. I can't ignore the questions: how will we live next? What will happen if we take the next step?
My mind won't leave me in peace, but her touch is like a soothing song that overshadows my doubts. We are here and now, in this moment, and I understand that I will keep dreaming. Maybe these dreams will lead us to the family I begin to think about with surprising intensity.
"Wake up! She's not right for you! You and she won't be able to be together!" my mind's voice sounds sharp and insistent, like a gulp of cold water.
His words make me shudder, but I still can't take my eyes off her. My mind won't give up. His eyes, filled with worry, search for any hint of doubt, like a desperate captain trying to steer me away from the stormy sea of emotions into the safe harbor.
"She's lying to you, can't you see it?!" His words cut like the edge of a knife, but I stand before him like a stone wall, unyielding.
Each breath of mine fills me with her presence, her light, her energy, which becomes my universe.
"You're consumed by feelings, and they are unreliable, fleeting, like a bright flash that disappears as quickly as it appears!" he continues, his words sounding like the blows of an iron hammer, trying to break through the wall made of my hopes and illusions.
I don't want to hear this. I know he is right, but I can't tear my gaze away from her. Her laughter fills the air with magic; her eyes glow with some wild light, like sparks in the night. Everything inside me screams that I can't let her go, that without her, the world loses its essence, its color, its richness.
He mentally takes a step forward, as if trying to pull me out of this state, bringing me closer to the cold truth. Every movement of his is full of determination, and I feel his words beginning to touch me with new strength, like a storm rising on the horizon, ready to engulf me entirely.
"When your infatuation fades, you'll see her for who she really is, without those rose-colored glasses you put on every time she smiles."
His words are like a lightning strike, burning away the fog of illusions. I close my eyes, trying to drown out the growing doubt that has taken root inside me, like poison, slowly spreading through my veins. His words — like stones falling into water — but their echoes don't reach my mind, consumed by her light.
"She's a loose girl," his voice becomes cold, like a winter wind piercing to the very soul, making me freeze.
I know he is right, that her life is one endless party, where every evening brings a new man, new adventures. These moments are fragile, like bubbles, disappearing with the slightest touch. But I don't want to believe it. I see her again — her eyes meeting mine, her hand reaching for me, her smile full of warmth and sincerity. It is a moment that makes me forget everything else.
"The fact that she's not like this now doesn't mean she won't be in a couple of years. What happens to her in five years?" His words sound like a prophecy, like an inevitable warning that I can't ignore.
It's a blow that makes me look at the future I'm so afraid of. I close my eyes, trying to shake off the image growing clearer and more real. I see her, sinking into that endless circle: parties, alcohol, gatherings. I know one day she will start to fall apart, that her world will change, and so will her view of me, and I don't want to think about it. I can't imagine her in any other light, can't picture her suffering.
"You've seen how it all starts and how it ends. At first, it's beautiful: fun, friends, freedom... But it's not eternal. She will want more, the alcohol and cigarettes won't be enough, she'll want something more. Maybe she's already tried pills, and then drugs. In five years, you won't recognize her, her beauty will be gone," his words echo in my head, but I can't distract myself.
I hear them, they get louder, their weight pressing on me like a block of ice, suffocating me. I know he's right, but I can't accept it. I'm scared, but I don't want to give in, I can't.
My mind screams like a wild thing, but my heart is silent, unable to shed any tears or find any relief. I try to forget, to turn a blind eye to the truth, but his words keep slicing through my soul like the edge of a knife.
"Maybe five years is her maximum. And you think she'll change for you? No, she's like this, and she won't change!" His voice becomes firm, like a final sentence, leaving no trace of hope.
I feel the weight of his words, like a heavy stone on my chest, filling every corner of my mind. What do I do now? How can I believe in the future when it's crumbling right in front of me, like sand slipping through my fingers? He's right, and that's the worst part — I know it, but I can't accept it. I can't look at her without feeling that she's everything I've ever searched for.
"You won't build anything lasting with her! With someone like her, you can't build strong relationships, you know that. The most you'll get is a distraction, nothing more. And you know it, but you close your eyes to the truth because of your infatuation. You're living in illusions, and she will destroy you. Run from her while you can. Otherwise, you'll ruin yourself and your future. She'll deceive you, and you'll be left with nothing!" His voice becomes resolute, as if there's no chance for salvation. It feels like a curse, tearing me apart, but something inside resists, unwilling to accept the truth.
His words begin to spread, but I refuse to hear them. I can't believe that her feelings are a mirage. I'm drawn to her, she seems like everything that matters. In her eyes, I see the world, in her touch, comfort. Everything in me screams that she's my reality. The pain grips my heart, the more I suppress it, the stronger it becomes. The more I try to rid myself of his words, the more they tear me apart. Every minute with her is full of her presence, her gaze consumes me. I stop listening to the warnings because they don't matter — I need to be with her. I don't want to see further, don't want to think about what might be.
Somewhere deep inside, something whispers: what if the truth does come? What if the world collapses even harder, and I end up in an emptiness surrounded by the echoes of broken hopes? What if I lose everything, not seeing the truth in time?
But even if that's the case, I can't stop. I'm consumed by her light. And when her gaze touches me, I don't want to know what tomorrow will bring. Tomorrow doesn't matter, as long as this moment exists.