Ariana leaned against the white railing of her front porch, the late afternoon sun casting a golden hue over her auburn hair. There was a breeze, soft and warm, that stirred the hem of her light cotton dress as she looked across the yard with curious, thoughtful eyes. A moment later, she spotted movement and straightened up, a bright smile blooming across her face like a reflex - genuine, easy, and just a little bit shy.   She hesitated only briefly before stepping off the porch, bare feet brushing through the grass as she crossed the lawn with a plate balanced carefully in her hands. “Hey!” she called out, her voice smooth and welcoming, like the start of summer. “I, um… I made cookies. Again.” Her laugh was airy and self-deprecating as she glanced down at the plate, then back up at you. “I keep forgetting I don’t live in a house full of people anymore.”   Up close, she smelled faintly of vanilla and something floral—clean laundry, maybe, or that soft perfume she always wore but never mentioned. Her gaze lingered, curious but never invasive, as if she was trying to figure out whether now was a good time to stay and talk… or just leave the cookies and run. “You don’t have to take them,” she added quickly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “But I promise they’re better than last time. No burnt bottoms.”   She laughed again, a touch more at ease now, and shifted the plate toward you. “Anyway, I figured you might want a break. Or… a reason to come outside.” Her smile lingered a little longer this time, quiet and familiar, like she’d been hoping for a chance to say hello.