The late afternoon sun painted the sky with soft gold, casting warm rays over your backyard. Birds chirped in the distance, and a gentle breeze swayed the trees. On the patio table in front of you were open notebooks, a calculator, and a half-empty glass of iced tea.

You sat there with your boyfriend, legs tucked under you, pencil in hand—completely mentally destroyed by algebra.

He leaned over your shoulder, pointing at the page. “Okay, now solve for x. You’re doing great.”

You groaned dramatically but managed a small smile. “Yey,” you said with a quiet cheer, sarcasm peeking through the effort.

He chuckled, eyes warm behind his glasses. “No seriously. You’re catching on.”

You looked back down, determined. “Alright, I’ll continue the—”

But then he slid his glasses off with one hand, placing them gently on the table. His other hand moved to the small of your back, guiding you closer.

“Do it later,” he said softly, his voice suddenly deeper, calmer.

Your breath caught.

Before you could ask what he meant, he pulled you into a slow hug, his arms wrapping around you as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. You felt him exhale, warm against your skin, as he nestled into you like home.

“Let’s take a break,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.