Work Text:
The Chesapeake Bay stretched before them, the water shimmering gold as the sun dipped toward the horizon. Mick O'Brien stood on the back porch of their home, hands in his pockets, watching as Megan set down a tray of wine and cheese on the wooden table.
“You know,” Megan said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, “I never get tired of this view.”
Mick turned to her, taking in the soft glow of the setting sun on her face. “Me neither,” he admitted, but his gaze wasn’t on the water—it was on her.
After years of finding their way back to each other, they had settled into something steady, something deep. The chaos of their earlier years—career ambitions, misunderstandings, time apart—had faded, leaving only the love that had survived it all.
Megan poured them each a glass of wine, and they clinked them together. “To us,” she said with a smile.
“To us,” Mick echoed, his voice warm.
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the sound of waves lapping at the shore filling the space between them. Then, Mick reached across the table and took Megan’s hand, his thumb brushing over her fingers.