"All Night"

The night is alive, humming with something she can’t quite name. Heat rises from the pavement, the scent of salt and jasmine thick in the air. The city glows behind her—neon flickering against the dark, palm trees swaying, their silhouettes stretching long beneath the streetlights. But she’s not looking back.

The road calls. The ocean calls. The feeling calls.

She drives with the windows down, warm wind tangling through her hair, the stereo playing something slow, something that feels like velvet against her skin. The highway stretches ahead, endless, golden in the glow of streetlights, dipping and curving like the night itself is guiding her somewhere. Midnight presses close, wrapping around her like a whispered promise she’s only just beginning to understand.

She doesn’t rush it. She lets it build, lets it settle into her bones. The rhythm of the road, the pulse of the city behind her, the electricity thick in the air—it all moves through her, a slow burn, a quiet thrill curling in her stomach. The world is holding its breath, waiting.

And so is she.

Because she knows he’s out there. Somewhere. Maybe thinking of her too. Maybe feeling this same restless, heady pulse of the night, knowing they’ll collide again soon.

The coastline appears in the distance, the water a dark mirror reflecting the full moon. She follows the road down, down, until she finds herself near the shore, sand soft beneath her feet as she steps out of the car. Somewhere nearby, music drifts through the night—No Other Lover, the melody weaving through the air like a secret meant just for her. The bass hums low, the vocals spilling into the space between the waves, each note wrapping around her like a memory she hasn’t lived yet.

She walks toward the tide, the cool water licking at her ankles, sending a shiver up her spine. There’s something about the night, about the way the stars hang low, the way the waves seem to echo her heartbeat. She tilts her head back, breathes it in. The warmth of the day still lingers in her skin, but the night—it’s different. It’s alive, pulsing with something deeper.

It can feel so right in the moment. It can feel so high when you’re here.

She closes her eyes, and suddenly, she’s back there. The way he looked at her, the weight of his gaze, how it made her feel untouchable, electric. The way his fingers brushed against her skin, a touch so light it might have been imagined, but the fire it left behind was real. The way his voice curled around her name, low and knowing, as if he’d whispered it a thousand times in another life.

She should be afraid of it, this feeling. The way it consumes, the way it makes her forget herself. But she doesn’t want to fight it.

She wants to drown in it.

The world feels slower here, stretched out in shades of blue and silver. She walks along the shore, the wet sand cool beneath her toes, each step sinking into something softer than time. The waves roll in and pull back, a rhythm as steady as the breath she takes, as steady as the pulse of the music still playing somewhere behind her.

She doesn’t know where it’s coming from—maybe a radio on a docked boat, maybe from one of the beachfront houses, left open to the night breeze. Maybe it’s just the sound of her own thoughts, humming in the back of her mind, refusing to let go.

She looks up. The sky is endless, dark and glittering, the moon a quiet witness to whatever this feeling is that lingers in her chest. She lifts her arms above her head, stretching, feeling the salt air on her skin, the electric hum of possibility curling in her stomach. The city behind her still glows, but here, beneath the stars, she feels untethered, weightless.

The night is hers.

She turns back toward the car, her footsteps slow, reluctant. But she isn’t ready to leave. Not yet.

Instead, she walks to the edge of a wooden jetty and lowers herself down, feet dangling above the water, the wood warm against the back of her legs. The ocean stretches out in front of her, endless and deep, a reflection of the sky above. A single yacht sways in the distance, its lights soft, golden. She wonders if he’s there, if he’s awake, if he’s watching the same night unfold.

The music shifts, a new song, a slower pulse. She leans back on her hands, tilts her head, lets it wash over her.

She feels him everywhere. In the way the wind wraps around her, in the way the music lingers in the air, in the way the city behind her pulses like a heartbeat. She can almost hear his voice, feel his touch, taste the adrenaline of knowing he’s near.

Maybe she’s chasing something she can’t name. Maybe she’s already found it.

But she knows one thing—she never wants this night to end.

No Other Lover

xoxo