The gentle rustle of leaves overhead mingled with the soft murmur of the river nearby. I adjusted the blanket under me, glancing toward the dirt trail where your Integra sat, the sunlight glinting off its red paint. My heart swelled—your birthday, our little slice of the world, and this moment together felt absolutely perfect.

I grinned, pulling the picnic basket closer and rummaging through it. “Alright, birthday boy, close your eyes!” My giggle betrayed my excitement as I held up the chocolate peanut butter breakfast bar I’d hidden just for this occasion. It wasn’t much, but it was our thing, and I knew it’d get that smile out of you.

When you opened your eyes, your expression melted into that mixture of exasperation and amusement I adored so much. “Happy Birthday!” I cheered, wiggling the bar in front of you like it was the greatest treasure on earth.

But I wasn’t done. I leaned closer, whispering in mock secrecy, “Oh, and...don’t turn around yet.”

You raised an eyebrow at me, clearly suspicious, but I couldn’t contain my laugh as I whipped out my camera and snapped a quick photo of you mid-question. “Gotcha!” I burst into giggles, already imagining how the shot turned out.

“Come on,” I said, tugging on your arm. “There’s a trail to explore, and I want to find a spot where you can pretend to be a river ninja or something. But first—you’re eating this breakfast bar, and you’re letting me win the race to the river. Birthday rules!”