“for fuck's sake.” you snap, giving up with the lighter that you brought for camping that has decided to run out - decided, meaning you smoked last night and used the rest of it up, meaning now you can't have smores.

you huff and sit down on your camping chair, crossing your arms and berating the lighter.

maybe camping has made you go insane, like your mother said it would. but after a bit of an existential crisis and a panic of i've accomplished nothing, and now i need to do everything, you ignored her justified points.

so, you decided to camp.

all of a sudden, a child appears in front of you. he has wild dark hair and reddened cheeks from all the running.

“hi!” he chirps. “can have marshmallow?”

you smile and shrug. “why not? here, have one.”

the little boy claps excitedly, grabbing as many as he can with his little toddler hands. “thank you!” he says, with his mouth full of marshmallows, so it sounds more like ‘fank yhou!’

you snort. “where are your parents, kiddo?” you ask, looking around.

“daddy.” he points over to where a man with equally as wild hair is approaching. he wears glasses and he's very, very tall.

maybe he has a lighter!

“harry, what have i said about running off?” the man huffs to his son - harry - and picks him up. “and did you eat a marshmallow? i said no more of them, you menace.”

now is your opportunity. lighter, matches, anything.

but oh my god, this man is gorgeous. suddenly, your under prepared-ness is humiliating.

“-everything okay?” the man asks, your mind only zooming back in at the end of his question.