117: Sand

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Y/N's POV:

I rock back and forth in my rocking chair, comfortably staring out at the extensive ocean in front of the porch. The sliding door behind me opens to reveal Shawn with wet hair and a white towel wrapped around his waist.

"This is a gorgeous house, beach front and quiet." He murmurs.

"Yep." I reply, not taking my eyes off of the landscape.

"I'm not gonna lie though, these towels are terrible." He squints in the harsh sunlight. I begin to laugh as I stand from my chair.

"Wow, I've really taught you well about towel quality, haven't I?" I chuckle.

"It's drilled into my brain, I notice it everywhere now." He teases. He playfully smacks my butt as I slide past him into the air-conditioned house.

"I've got to take a shower, so can you call in some pizza or something while I'm in there?" I ask. He nods as I pull my hair up into a messy bun.

"Do you want any specific kind?" He tousles his hair with his fingers.

"No, I'm starving, so anything'll be fine. Just no pineapple or sardines or anything like that."

I walk into the small bathroom and begin to take off my bathing suit before I realize how much sand is coming from the bottoms of the suit.

"Oh my gosh, Shawn, I'm going to kill you." I yell, fumbling to pull up the black bottoms. I pull open the door.

"What did I do?" He calls from our bedroom.

"Do you remember when you thought it would be a good idea to bury me in the sand?" I'm still standing in the doorway to the bathroom, fuming. Shawn's pulling on a t-shirt as he comes into the living room.

"I want you to look at how much sand is on the bathroom floor from my bathing suit pants." I motion to the small mound of light sand on the white linoleum floor. "I have sand in every crevice right now." I complain. He smirks.

"Do you need me to help you get it out?"

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A/N:

Soooooo this is inspired by my most recent vacation because once there is sand in your bathing suit, there's no going back.

QOTD: When do y'all go back to school?

AOTD: I go back on the 28th this month.

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