The rain pattered softly against the windows, the world outside a blur of gray and wet. Inside, the warmth of the fire crackling in the hearth filled the room, and the soft hum of an old record played in the background. Joel was sitting across from me at the small table, a stack of board games between us, his smile wide and infectious. It was one of those rare moments where everything felt perfect, just the two of us in our little bubble, away from the chaos of the world.

“Alright, your move,” he said, his voice light and teasing. His hair was a bit tousled from the rain earlier, and his eyes sparkled with mischief. He always had that spark, no matter what.

I could feel the joy bubbling up inside me, like a constant warmth I couldn’t quite contain. “You’re going down, Dawson,” I teased, pushing the game piece a little too forcefully, sending it flying across the table. I couldn’t help it—every time I was with him, it felt like I was walking on sunshine. He made everything feel so easy, so carefree.

Joel laughed, his usual self-assured grin never wavering. “Hey, I’m just warming up. Don’t think this is over.” He leaned back in his chair, looking ridiculously smug. I could feel the playful challenge in his eyes, and it only made me want to win more.

It wasn’t about the game, though. We both knew that. It was about the little moments—the quiet ones when we didn’t need to say anything to feel understood.

“Come on,” I said, feigning a dramatic sigh. “You can’t possibly be this confident about a game where you have no idea what’s going on.”

Joel raised an eyebrow, leaning forward again. “You sure about that? I’ve got strategies you wouldn’t even believe.” His grin grew wider as he grabbed another piece and moved it carefully, as if he actually was taking this seriously.