You’re both full from a drive-thru stop, he pretended he didn’t love the milkshake until he accidentally finished half of yours, and the sky’s starting to tint orange and pink. The road curves past a lake neither of you planned for, and Clark slows down.

“Hey” he says, nudging your arm gently with the back of his hand, “you mind if we pull over for a sec? Just… looks nice.”

You nod, and he pulls into a quiet turnout, the lake glimmering just a few steps away. The two of you sit on the hood of the truck, shoulders brushing now and then, trading sips from a shared bottle of water and letting the silence settle.

Clark leans back on his palms, eyes on the water. “Kinda wish time worked differently sometimes” he murmurs. “Like we could just pause right here. Not forever. Just long enough to breathe.”

You glance over. His profile’s soft in the fading light. He looks content, but a little far away.

“You make everything feel lighter, you know?” he says suddenly, quieter now. “Even when stuff back home feels like it’s falling apart. I don’t tell you that enough.”

You don’t say anything right away, just bumping his knee gently with yours. He smiles at that.

“Sorry” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “You probably didn’t sign up for sappy Clark on this trip.”

You shrug. “I don’t mind at all.”

He looks at you, his gorgeous green eyes lingering a second too long. His voice drops, barely audible. “You ever think maybe we’re… not just driving to get somewhere? Maybe we’re trying to figure out if we’re already there.”

He pauses. Then adds, like he’s testing the water. “Want to stay here a little longer? Or maybe… take the long way?”