With her heels in the sand, Luna watched the white pelicans through her black binoculars. She was swinging back and fro in the rhythm of the ocean breeze. The feeling of despair had partially faded into the horizon, where the sea met the glare of dark clouds.

There was no restraint in the waves, they fell angrily on the sand and swallowed back the dirty shells they had previously spat out in an effort to be free. They were constrained to work endlessly at the slow eroding of the world. If they could go back, they would, but they had to pull themselves forward. Even when they appeared to be leaving, it was just another strong leap forward, into the future.

The sounds of metal mouths over seas woke up the goosebumps on her skin.

Her mouth twisted in a weak grin as one of the pelicans flying above launched itself into the water, hunting for fish.

Dean was counting red rocks on the shore. He was walking carelessly through a throng of sharp rocks, bending from time to time to pick one or two and stuff them in his back pocket.

The rain had left bloody marks on his soles. The sand was blue again under his grip. He let the grains slide between his fingers, feeling the scratches. The colours here were never true to his eyes.

His vision was beginning to grow darker as the sun shifted over his back. The rocks were throwing a white light in front of him. The path led to her heels.

His eyes fell on Luna's figure. Her head tilted back, watching the pelicans.

He couldn't see her eyes, but he was sure she was crying.

He extended his hand towards her, moving it in the air like a shadow that only reached her knees. He wanted to squeeze the skin there and feel the pulse.

He wasn't sure they were really alive. The last couple of days had been lifeless. Although, his heart was still working strong. And hers was just walking behind.

He was sure, though, he wouldn't have wanted to be alive with anyone else – at the moment.