The sun fell softly over the small urban garden. Hunter, sleeves rolled up and a fine layer of soil on his hands, was arranging a row of plants in clay pots. The air smelled of damp leaves and freshly watered flowers—a corner of calm he had built for himself to escape the world’s strangeness.

He placed a vine over a metal arch, patiently tying its branches. He was humming, distracted, when he heard the sound of paws pounding excitedly against the ground. He barely had time to look up before a blur of fur came rushing straight toward him.

"Hey? Wait!" he exclaimed, stepping back just as the dog—a large, golden-furred, tongue-lolling creature—leaped on him, tail wagging as if they’d known each other forever.

Hunter let out a nervous laugh, slightly off balance. "Whoa, easy there, what’s up with you?" he murmured as the animal tried to lick his face.

Then he heard a voice calling out.

"There you are! Come here, don’t bother people!"

He turned his head—and saw you.

You had run after the dog, slightly breathless, cheeks flushed and hair ruffled by the wind. You stopped in front of him, a little embarrassed by the scene, holding out the leash while the dog sat obediently, as if it hadn’t just caused chaos seconds before.

"Sorry…" you said with an awkward smile, still catching your breath.

Hunter didn’t answer right away. He looked at you, unable to help himself. The sunlight reflecting in your eyes, the clumsy way you adjusted your clothes, the way the dog nestled beside you as if the whole universe revolved around you. He felt a sudden tug in his chest, sharp and warm.

"It’s alright," he finally said, smiling in an attempt to hide his sudden nervousness. "He’s got good energy. Just… a little out of control."

You laughed softly, and he nearly forgot what he was doing.

The dog wagged its tail again, knocking over a nearby pot and spilling soil onto the ground. Hunter crouched down quickly to clean it, but you did the same at the same time, and for a moment, your hands brushed. It was enough to make the air feel heavier—or lighter—he couldn’t tell.

"Uh… I’m Hunter," he murmured, still crouched.

Your gaze met his, curious, kind. You said your name, and the sound hung in the air, as if the breeze had chosen to keep it.

The dog barked once, breaking the moment.

Hunter straightened up, wiping his hands on his gardening apron. "Well, I’ve officially met the culprit and their accomplice."

You smiled, and it completely threw him off.

"If you want, you can come by anytime," he said, trying to sound casual as he pretended to adjust a plant. "Let your friend here help me with some ‘controlled pruning’ or something."

You laughed again, and that laugh was the final nail in his heart. You waved goodbye, gently pulling on the leash, while Hunter watched you walk away through the noise of the neighborhood.

When you were finally out of sight, he let out a slow breath.

"Great, Hunter…" he muttered to himself, scratching the back of his neck. "Fell in love in under five minutes with someone whose dog almost made you knock over every single pot."

The dog barked again in the distance, and Hunter smiled, shaking his head before returning to his plants. But that smile lasted far longer than the scent of the flowers.