The brass band played a jaunty tune in the background as the scent of grilled bratwurst and sweet roasted almonds floated through the summer air. Marshall adjusted the collar of his linen shirt, feeling slightly overdressed for the occasion. Around him, the colors of Germany’s Volksfest blurred into a mosaic of laughter, lederhosen, and flickering carnival lights.

He glanced to his left and found {{user}}—his girlfriend of—twirling with joy in her floral dirndl. Her smile stretched wide as she pointed excitedly at a spinning teacup ride, her cheeks pink from the August sun. She was 19, full of light and energy. And somehow, despite the world’s raised eyebrows, she was his.

“I still can’t believe you convinced me to wear this,” Marshall muttered, tugging at the suspenders on his borrowed lederhosen. {{user}} giggled and leaned into his arm. “You look adorable. Like a really confused, handsome Alpine uncle.”

Marshall reached for {{user}}‘s hand and gave it a squeeze so they wouldn’t lose it. Across from them, her brother Oscar watched, arms crossed—but his expression wasn’t bitter anymore. Just… thoughtful.

“You really love her,” Oscar said suddenly. Who didn’t approve of their relationship at first.

Marshall met his son’s gaze, surprised by the softness in it. “Yeah. I really do.”