Ricky rests his head on his girlfriend's lap, the soft fabric of the couch beneath them making everything feel even lazier. The warmth of her skin against his cheek makes him feel at peace, their half-dressed state more about comfort than anything else. A soft breeze filters through the window, rustling the autumn leaves outside. The TV flickers with a show neither of them is really watching. Ricky sighs quietly, feeling the gentle rhythm of her breathing as she absentmindedly runs her fingers through his messy hair.

After a while, he shifts slightly, bored with the lack of excitement on the screen. His gaze drifts to her phone, lying nearby on the coffee table. With a mischievous smirk, he reaches over and grabs it, half expecting her to protest. But to his surprise, she barely reacts, giving him a small smile before turning her attention back to the TV.

He unlocks the phone, feeling a bit like a kid sneaking a peek into someone’s diary. The screen lights up, and the wallpaper is a candid photo of him—his eyes mid-laugh, looking at the camera like he didn’t even know she was taking the picture. His heart skips a beat. Curiosity piqued, he scrolls further, finding himself again in her music playlist, his songs at the top. Then, in the photo gallery, there’s picture after picture of him. Some taken from concerts, others of quiet moments like this one. It suddenly hits him, hard and fast—how deeply she cares about him, how much space he takes up in her world. A soft smile forms on his lips as he realizes just how much she loves him.