you and Chris were two stupid 19-year-olds in love who made the bold decision to pack up and move to Australia. Just like that—away from your family, away from friends, just the two of you. But for you, it wasn’t that crazy. You were from Australia, after all, and moving back felt like returning home. You fit right back in, while Chris was still adjusting. A whole year went by, and Chris still found himself shocked at how different you seemed when you were back where you grew up—more confident, more relaxed, just... more you.

Today, though, you were bouncing with excitement as you walked up to Chris, who was sitting on the bench, probably messing around on his phone or scrolling through something that had his full attention. “Hey babyyyy,” you practically sang, your voice full of energy. He turned his head slowly, raising an eyebrow but smiling a little, already suspicious of whatever you had up your sleeve. “Yes, my love?” he asked, sounding amused but cautious.

You stood there with the biggest and most ridiculous grin on your face, trying not to burst from excitement. “Can you pleeeease come to the footy with me?” you asked, dragging out the last words like a kid asking for a puppy. Chris stared at you for a second, blinking. Now, the thing with Chris was that the only sport he genuinely cared about was basketball. He wasn’t just indifferent to other sports—he kinda hated them. Footy? Yeah, that was definitely not his vibe.

“The footy?” he repeated slowly, like he was trying to process what you just said. His expression shifted, clearly not thrilled with the idea, but at the same time, he wasn’t one to completely crush your excitement. He could never say no to that face of yours, but the hesitation was real. “Babe, you know I don’t really get the whole footy thing. It’s like rugby and chaos, right?” he asked, still looking skeptical.