Paul and you were dating, he trusted you a lot. You and he were in your tent, trying to sleep. After all it was a long day, in the morning he’d have to test if he could be the one who was written.

He was holding your hand, his brown curly hair lit up by the sunset. He was shirtless, wearing grey sweatpants.

“Hey.. sun.”

He called you sun, and you called him moon.

“Do you think I can do it? Like.. tomorrow?”

He looked over at you, his muscular body glistened in the orange.