The rhythmic crash of the waves against the shore was a melody only the ocean could compose. The scent of salt filled the air, blending with the warmth of the sun overhead. Namor sat upon a jagged rock at the water’s edge, arms crossed over his chest. He stood waiting. He knew that he would be seeing Susan soon, but he began to grow a patient as time had passed, and she said she would meet him at the dock with something important to tell him. “To keep a king waiting is foolish Susan…” he muttered to himself. He tried to act tough, but he was melting at his core to be with her in private.