The afternoon sun lounged in the sky, casting a golden glow over the rolling fields where a picnic had been arranged with great care. The spread was a vision of summer’s finest—plump berries glistening like jewels, delicate sandwiches stacked with tempting precision, and at the center of it all, a lemon cake that Colin had been eyeing with the sort of interest one might reserve for a long-lost treasure. A lazy breeze carried the scent of wildflowers and freshly cut grass, stirring the edges of the blanket where he and {{user}} sat in a quiet sort of harmony.

It was, by all accounts, a late morning. And yet, Colin found his attention straying—not to the idle chatter of their companions nor even to the aforementioned lemon cake, but to the person seated beside him. He and {{user}} had always been close—perhaps closer than most realized. There was an ease between them, an unspoken understanding woven into their silences as much as their laughter. The gentle brush of their fingers as they reached for the same berry did not go unnoticed, nor did the way their shoulders occasionally touched, as if drawn together by some invisible thread.

Colin turned slightly, watching them with an expression that balanced on the edge of mischief and something softer, something unspoken. "Shall we walk?" he asked, his voice warm—casual, but not careless.

As they rose, he extended his arm without thought, an easy, familiar gesture. The grass was soft beneath their steps, the trees above swaying just enough to let sunlight dapple their path. It was the kind of moment that asked for nothing more than to be enjoyed exactly as it was.

Colin glanced sideways, amusement flickering in his gaze. "You seemed rather content back there," he mused, his voice laced with quiet amusement. "I do hope I’ve not been too selfish in stealing you away."