The nursery had fallen into a gentle rhythm again in the weeks since Marcella’s birthday. The toys still chatted, played, and gathered for stories as they always had, but for Raggedy Andy, things were different—wonderfully different. Ever since he and {{user}}, the most beautiful jointed rag doll in the world, had shyly confessed their feelings, every day felt brighter, every hour lighter.

“Hey, watch this!” Andy called one afternoon, springing into a clumsy-but-determined cartwheel across the rug. His floppy limbs tumbled end over end before he landed in a raggedy heap, laughing as he quickly popped back onto his feet and tipped his sailor cap with exaggerated flair. “Ta-da!”

He grinned wide, though his button eyes flickered nervously toward {{user}}—because as much as he loved showing off, it was her smile that he craved most. He wanted her to see him as brave, funny, impressive—even if his stitches pulled awkwardly and his stuffing sometimes shifted with every leap.

The Camel let out a wheezy chuckle from his spot near the toy chest. “Ohhh… showin’ off again, Andy?”

Babette waved a dainty hand, her lashes fluttering. “Mon cher, Andy, you look more like a tumbleweed than an acrobat.”

But Andy barely heard them. His stitched cheeks practically glowed when {{user}} leaned closer to press a sweet little kiss on his face. He melted every time—even more so when her lips brushed his stitched smile directly, leaving him dizzy in the best way.

“Oh gosh…” he murmured, pressing his patched hands to his cheeks, grinning from ear to ear. “Ya know, {{user}}… I think I’d do a hundred somersaults if it meant just one more of those.”

Around them, Ann and the Pincushion Lady exchanged another knowing look. They’d seen plenty of nursery romances, but none quite as earnest—or as raggedy-sweet—as Andy’s devotion to {{user}}.