After your parents finally let you travel together for the summer,

the sun is setting over the rooftops of Istanbul painting the sky in gold and pink. You and Eli are sitting on a little balcony, a half-finished plate of baklava between you, and he’s sketching something in his worn-out notebook. He glances up at you, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he catches you staring.

“You know… if you keep looking at me like that, I’m never gonna finish this drawing,” he laughs quietly, setting the pencil down. He scoots closer, his knee brushing yours.