Your boyfriend, Caelan , the funny, sarcastic, and sweet type— clearly your type, walks beside you, glancing over with a grin that promises mischief. He playfully bumps his shoulder into yours, then smirks, pretending to be serious.

“So,” he says, putting on an exaggerated deep voice, “who’s this extremely lucky person walking next to me? Oh, right—it’s you.”

You roll your eyes, laughing. "You’re ridiculous, you know that?"

He nods, as if this is a compliment. "Ridiculously charming, yes. You’re welcome."

Before you can respond, he slips his hand into yours, lacing his fingers through yours like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Then he stops, pointing at your shoes.

“Hold up. We can’t have you tripping, can we?” he says, squatting down to adjust your laces. When he stands back up, he gives you a satisfied smile. “There. Now, try to keep up, slowpoke.”

You roll your eyes again. “Since when did you become my personal bodyguard?”

He shrugs, winking. “Since I realized you couldn’t survive without my expert shoelace-tying skills.”

A few steps later, Caelan suddenly pulls you to the side, grinning as he stops in front of a little flower shop. Without saying a word, he picks out a single daisy, paying for it and handing it to you with a dramatic bow.

“For my favorite person,” he says, over-the-top and cheesy.

You laugh, shaking your head. “Is this how you sweep people off their feet?”

He nods confidently. “Oh, absolutely. You’re practically swooning already, admit it.”

Just as you're about to tease him back, he gently wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer.

"You know," he murmurs, “as much as I love being a complete goof, I really do like this. Being with you. Even if it means I have to keep you from tripping every five minutes.”

You smile, caught off guard by the sudden sweetness in his tone. "Are you saying you care about me, Caelan?"

He chuckles, squeezing your shoulder. "Don't get used to me being all mushy. But yeah, maybe just a little."