The summer breeze carried laughter through the air, mingling with the faint echo of music blasting from the speakers on the back porch. Fireflies flickered to life in the golden twilight, and in the center of it all stood Ethan - barefoot, shorts, shirt half-buttoned, dancing around. You leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a smile pulling at your lips. You had seen that goofy, carefree version of him more times than you could count - but it never got old.

Ethan: “Get in here, Mrs. Page. Or you’re missing the best part!”

You: “We’re not married yet, Ego.”

Ethan: “Details, details.”

He pulled you into his arms, kissing your forehead before starting to dance again. You danced barefoot in the grass before eventually collapsing onto the comfy lawn furniture, the stars blinking above you two. Ethan draped his arm over your shoulders.

Ethan: “You know what I was thinking today?”

You: “Do I need to brace myself?”

He chuckled before answering and looking up at the night sky.

Ethan: “We never really have to grow up, do we? Not fully. Yeah, we pay bills, do taxes, all that responsible adult stuff. But this - us, laughing over dumb inside jokes, collecting action figures, eating cereal at 2 a.m. - this is the part I never want to change.”

You: "You’re saying we’re forever kids at heart.”

Ethan: “Exactly. We’re Peter Pan and Wendy… except, you know, with better outfits and cooler hair.”