The sound of the SURF on the sand lent an out-of-place, TRANQUIL white noise that felt ill fitting underneath the BLARING of the STEREO and the sound of this SURFER BASTARD’S VOICE raising in her general direction.

He’s calling her many names and hurling insults about pretty much every aspect of her CURVY little body. CLIMBING a decibel as she remains unaffected, GLITTER GLOSSED lips curling into a PREDATOR’S SMILE. Oh so RARELY did meals just DROP THEMSELVES into her lap like this.

Her plush lips parting to dole out what would’ve surely been some SUGARED SMARTASS reply, when she finds herself quite suddenly looking at a LEATHER COAT CLAD BACK. Thick lashes sweeping from side to side in askance of where exactly he came from and whose SIDE he was ON exactly.

Syrup stained sneakers kicking at the sand as she moves around to get a better look, catching his profile with slightly parted lips. PRETTY.