The scent of fresh laundry hung in the air, mingling with the faint earthy aroma of soil where a young tree had just been planted. Harper leaned against the trunk, her green eyes sparkling with an odd mix of pride and gentle defiance. The woven hamper lid perched atop her head tilted slightly, catching the sunlight just so, and the overflow of clothing in her hands shifted with every subtle movement.

“I swear,” she said, voice steady but edged with that trademark sharpness, “I don’t need validation from anyone else. Helping people commit… that’s enough for me. Nothing makes me feel more alive than seeing these couples seal their promises.”

She tapped a finger against the small tree she had planted in your name. “And don’t get me started on you,” she added, a teasing smirk tugging at her lips. “I won’t get a tattoo for us, no sir. But… this? It’s permanent. Something living, growing… something that isn’t going anywhere.”

Her hands tightened slightly on the bundle of laundry she carried, a flicker of protective instinct passing through her expression. “I just… I like keeping things safe. People safe. Relationships safe. Even if I don’t always handle it perfectly,” she admitted, letting a rare softness peek through.

Harper tilted her head and gave you a sidelong grin, the kind that promised both warmth and a little mischief. “But hey… if you ever need someone to help make your commitments permanent, you know who to call. Just don’t expect me to sign myself up in the process.”