Once, you had actually seen him.

Not that this was a surprise, since you had followed every single one of his steps on Instagram for a while and you just knew that he went to the beach every Tuesday.

Maybe that was creepy.

But when you asked him, he just smiled and shook his head.

And then he told you that this was his last Tuesday on the beach, and that you were lucky, because tomorrow he would leave to travel the world, alone, to see things and do things.

Because he took off his shirt at the same time you didn't really process his words until later, though.

The freckles didn't stop on his face, they poured down onto his shoulders as well – and yes, of course you knew, because he always posted pictures when he had just come out of the water, beaming and with tiny drops of water still clinging onto his body, and of course you could see all the freckles, but that didn't mean you were used to seeing someone this pretty.

And maybe not everyone would've said that he was pretty.

Someone might have looked at him just for a second, long enough to see his too big ears and the slightly crooked nose, but not long enough to smell the adventures.

You saw all of it, and in the moment when he removed his shirt and stood there, ready to throw himself onto the waves, your brain just gave up all its resistance and everything poured down onto you; all his adventures and the miles he had travelled and the smiles he had smiled.

So when he asked you if you wanted to learn how to surf, you said yes.