The park was quiet that evening, painted in shades of gold and lavender as the sun dipped low. Your dog tugged at the leash, nose buried in the grass, chasing invisible trails only he seemed to understand. You laughed under your breath, adjusting your jacket against the chill, when a voice — warm and deep — caught you off guard.

“Mind if I say hello?”

You turned, startled, to see a tall man crouched a few feet away, his smile easy and polite. At first, he was just another stranger who wanted to pet your dog. But then your brain caught up with your eyes. The strong jaw, the broad shoulders, the familiar face you’d glimpsed on more than one movie poster.

David Corenswet.

Your dog, oblivious to your sudden rush of nerves, bounded forward and pressed happily into his hands. David laughed, that deep sound rumbling from his chest as he scratched behind the ears.

“He’s friendly,” David said, glancing up at you. His eyes were brighter than you expected, catching the last slant of sunlight. “What’s his name?”