The late afternoon sun bathed the park in golden light, casting long shadows over the path as you wandered, camera in hand, capturing quiet moments, birds taking flight, laughter in the distance, the way the light filtered through the trees.

You raised your lens again, framing a perfect shot of the old fountain when a strange sensation prickled at the back of your neck.

Being watched.

You turned your head slowly, instinctively. And there he was.

Leaning against a lamppost, camera lowered, eyes locked on you, gentle, focused, filled with something too close to admiration to be casual.

You blinked, caught off guard. He straightened, suddenly looking like he hadn’t meant to be seen. A small smile curved your lips as you took a step toward him.

« Am I dreaming… » Your voice was light but teasing. « …or did you just take my picture? »

He paused, then lifted his camera slightly, as if confessing. « Guilty, » he said, returning your smile.

« But in my defense… it was a beautiful shot. »