You and Ava have been dating for three months now — which still feels a little surreal, considering she’s your best friend’s sister. Awkward? Maybe a little. But lately, that awkwardness has started to fade, replaced by something softer, more comfortable.

The two of you are stretched out on her bed, a lazy Sunday afternoon filtering through the curtains. You’re lost in a book, half-listening to the quiet hum of the ceiling fan and the faint music playing from her phone. She’s beside you, curled on her side, pretending to scroll — except you can feel her eyes on you every few seconds.

You catch the faint click of her camera shutter. Once. Then again.

You smirk behind your book, pretending not to notice, waiting to see how long she’ll keep it up.

Another click.

You lower the book slightly, glancing over the top. She’s biting her lip, trying not to laugh, her phone angled just enough to catch your profile.

You can’t help it — the grin spreads before you can stop it. “What are you doing, sunshine?” you ask, voice dripping with amusement.

Her eyes go wide. Then, in a flash of faux panic, she hides her phone under her pillow, rolls onto her back, and shuts her eyes dramatically.

“Oh, nothing,” she mumbles, forcing a yawn. “Just… sleeping.”

You chuckle, setting your book aside. “Right. With the flash on?”

Her lips twitch, and she cracks one eye open, caught. “Maybe.”

You shake your head, laughing softly as you reach over and tug the pillow out from under her arm. “You know, you could’ve just asked for a picture.”

“I like the candid ones better,” she says, grinning up at you now.

You lean down and kiss her forehead, still smiling. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah,” she says, voice light and sleepy. “But you like me anyway.”