The Water Was Never a Dance {Prose}

You took my hand ever so gently. It made those shivers come back and they ran up my spine so fast I swear they'd win in a race. I was cold, shaking. You noticed. You hugged me and I buried my face into your chest, the tip of my nose lined with the beat of your heart.
"We'll be together forever," you promised.

It was a warm night that night. I remember it clearly. It was the middle of June and summer days were beginning to be a regular occurence. But I kept shivering.
"I think you're getting sick, honey," you whispered.

Lovesick.

We were sitting down by the beach. The sand was getting inbetween my toes and I kept fidgeting with them because it was uncomfortable and annoying.
"Stop it!" you complained, with a slight smile. "Just focus on the waves of the water."

I scrunched up my face. "Why? It's just water. I'm fu.cking freezing, the sand is doing my head in, and you want me to watch the stupid waves!"

You just laughed at my annoyance. That just made things worse. I scowled at you, trying to make my features stay fixed in the one position. It didn't work. I could never look at your sly eyes, your cheeky grin without my own face changing to match yours. You were just too beautiful; I wanted to be as well.

"Picture the sand as a blanket," he said. "Lie down in it and embrace each particle. You'll like it."
I just raised my eyebrows.
"And the sea," he continued, "The sea can be like a dance. It can entertain us for days, weeks even. A new show every night." He laughed after he said this, probably because my face was like a painting of disbelief. He hugged me again, "We'll be together forever."

I think I realised then why I was so cold that night. Why I didn't believe his attempts to get me to fall in love with the ocean and its surroundings.

We weren't together forever. The sand was never my blanket. The water was never a dance.