Page 15 of Time After Time (Golden Sands #1)

“You sounded like you needed someone,” he said, his gaze still fixed on the pages of his book. It was impressive how quickly he could sense my mood from just a text, but I was just grateful that he was here.

When I didn’t respond right away, he set the book and the gummy bears down on the side table and sat up straighter on the bed, his brow knitting together in concern.

“Is there really time?” I asked, and he looked at me, his expression puzzled, as if he were trying to solve a complicated riddle. “Is there enough time to figure out what I really want?” I threw my hands up in frustration, the damp towel slipping from my hair. “Before the summer ends?”

Sebastian shifted, pulling his legs in from their extended position. “A lot can happen over the summer,” he whispered.

“I hope so,” I muttered, “because soon enough, time won’t be on my side.”

He sighed, his fingers still wrapped around his ankles, his gaze dropping to his lap as he shook his head. “Why the rush, Gen?”

“Because I feel like I’m supposed to…”

“No,” he interrupted, his expression earnest. His brows were on the verge of furrowing, the corners of his lips turning downward as he shook his head.

“You’re not supposed to have your whole life planned out right now.

We’re young, and there’s still time. Throwing ourselves blindly into the depths of the ocean won’t help us at all.

You have time, and you shouldn’t feel pressured to decide what you want to do right now or before the summer ends.

” He leaned closer, his voice barely above a whisper, as if the words were meant only for me.

His chest rose with a slow breath, eyelids fluttering shut for a moment before he looked at me again. “Please don’t hate me for saying this.”

“I won’t get angry.” Stepping closer, my tone softened as I leaned in. I could see the strain in his eyes, hear the urgency in his voice.

“If you go along with your dad’s wishes…” I shuddered, but his words kept coming. “If you do what he wants just to make him happy, you’ll end up regretting it. Sure, you’ll make him happy, but what about you?”

My bottom lip trembled as I looked away, quickly blinking to hold back the tears that were already welling up.

I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop them—not in front of Sebastian.

There was something about him that made me want to open up, something that made being vulnerable feel almost like a strength.

His words reminded me of the dream. I could still feel how unhappy I was, drained of passion, too tired to care, and isolated. I wasn’t really living. I was just getting by.

My name was whispered, and it sent a shiver through my chest. The warmth of Sebastian’s presence crept closer, the soft rustle of sheets signalling he’d risen from the bed.

Before I could raise my thumb to my lips, his quiet voice interrupted.

“Listen,” he whispered, his breath brushing my skin.

I kept my gaze down, feeling his hands fold around mine, the weight of them suspended between us.

“I believe in this, Gen. I know we’ll find what drives you before summer ends.

We have time, and every bit of it matters.

” I nodded, still staring at our hands, fingers tangled together.

“But if we do find it... will you go after it?”

“What?” I glanced up, confusion flickering across my face. Sebastian’s gaze didn’t waver, but his expression seemed to soften, like he was trying to gauge if I was hearing him.

“Will you go after your dream, or just let it slip away? If the chance comes, will you take it, or let it pass by?”

“I don’t understand what you mean.” I tried to pull my hands free, but he didn’t loosen his grip. His fingers tightened, not painfully, but enough to keep me there.

“Gen,” he whispered, sitting down on the bed and pulling me to join him, our hands resting on his lap. “I feel like, even if we find your passion by the end of summer, you won’t go after it.”

My hands twitched in his grip, and he calmed them, his thumbs tracing gentle circles on the back of my hands.

“What are you trying to say?”

“That you might let fear or guilt keep you from going after what you really want,” he said, looking me straight in the eye. His voice was calm, but there was something raw beneath it. “That you might choose what’s easy for everyone else, instead of what makes you happy.”

His words hit harder than I expected, the truth settling over me like a weight I couldn’t shake off. I knew he was right, even if I didn’t want to admit it.

“Gen, I’m worried about you. I don’t want you to give up on your happiness just to please other people. I know you’re scared, but...” He paused, taking a deep breath, realising how heavy his words were.

I wasn’t sure if it was his words, his concern, or a little bit of both, but the tears I’d been holding back finally slipped free. They fell, warm against my skin, and faster than I could catch them.

“Gosh, no,” he said, his voice breaking a little as he released me. I stayed still, my hands resting on his thighs. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” His gaze was on me, full of worry, regret. His fingers brushed away my tears, but they kept coming.

His expression was blank, his eyes wide, and I couldn’t help but let out a laugh. I lifted a hand to my face, dabbing at my cheeks to stop the tears, but his hands remained on my face, not letting go. “It’s just that you’re right.”

Tears split over as I spoke, each word thick with sobs that shook me. And then, the dam broke. I crumpled, letting the weight of everything pour out, my body trembling with the release.

“No, no, no, Gen,” he said, pulling me close until my face was hidden in his chest. His arms tightened around me.

“I’m sorry.” I kept crying, unable to find the words to tell him it wasn’t his fault.

He held me tighter, rocking us as if trying to soothe me.

“No, stop,” he said, his voice tender but edged with concern.

“You know I do crazy things when you cry.”

My hands slid around his waist, fingers brushing the skin of his back beneath his shirt.

He shivered slightly, his face pressing against the curve of my neck as we swayed together, the movement slowing to a stop.

I buried my face deeper into his chest, letting my hands rise to the middle of his back, pulling him even closer.

Then, without a word, Sebastian took a sharp breath, his body going rigid before he suddenly stood, pulling away.

Tears blurred my vision, turning everything around me into a haze. I blinked, trying to clear my eyes, but no matter how hard I tried, his movements stayed out of focus, the edges uncertain, slipping through my strained sight.

“What are you doing?” My voice cracked, the tears still flowing down my cheeks.

Sebastian took a deep breath, and in one smooth, determined motion, he kicked his legs up into a headstand.

Within seconds, he was upside down, his face turning red as he struggled to keep his balance.

His white shirt rode up, exposing the line of his torso, and his flushed face was half-hidden, his brow furrowed in concentration.

My eyes widened, and a surprised laugh slipped out, even as the tears still streaked down my face. “Seb, what on earth are you doing?”

Sebastian’s voice came out muffled as he spoke from his upside-down position. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice coming out tight and wobbly. “I just… can’t stand seeing you cry.”

I couldn’t help it—the laughter bubbled up, shaking my shoulders as I dabbed at my wet cheeks with the back of my hand.

“You’re ridiculous,” I murmured, a small smile tugging at my lips as my despair shifted into something lighter.

Sebastian eventually lost his balance and tumbled to the floor in a tangled heap. He lay there for a moment, catching his breath and chuckling to himself. His ridiculous antics had worked. My sobs faded, replaced by a shaky, but real, smile.

I couldn’t help but laugh again, tilting my head back as Sebastian wobbled to his feet, still a little dizzy from the headstand that had left his face flushed bright red.

What really had me in stitches, though, was when he flopped onto my bed.

The mattress creaked under his weight, bouncing up and down, and I felt the movement ripple through the bed, making me bounce along with it.

He offered me a reassuring smile, but I noticed a flicker of worry behind his eyes. I shifted, lying down on my stomach beside him. Our arms naturally tangled together, and we both turned to meet each other’s gaze. The closeness felt grounding, like everything might be okay.

“Are you really okay?” he asked.

I nodded quickly, but he hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“I needed to hear what you said.” And it was the truth.

It was exactly what I needed to hear. His words weren’t new to me; I’d known them deep down all along.

What I hadn’t realised was how much fear had taken hold of me—fear of disappointing my dad, of making the wrong choice.

So instead of making decisions for myself, I let life or someone else make them for me.

“Okay, then,” he mumbled to himself as he stood up from my bed and walked over to the window.

I noticed a small black bag leaning against the wall, with a few scattered items underneath it.

He rummaged through the bag, his hands moving rapidly until he pulled out a small notepad.

Then, he made his way to the left side of my white desk, opened the drawer with a soft creak, and carefully retrieved my favourite pen, a light blue one with a shiny stone dangling from its cap.

“What are you up to now?” I inquired.

Sebastian toyed with the pen, which had nothing particularly special about it, except that it happened to be my favourite for some inexplicable reason.