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Outside the Gardenview, where the scent of blooming wildflowers mingled with the earthy perfume of the soft, dewy grass, you and Sprout sat beneath the old oak tree.
Its branches swayed gently overhead, as the afternoon sun hung high and proud, casting warm golden streaks through the canopy. Nearby, the familiar sounds of other toons playing nearby, not far away from the museum
Sprout was unusually quiet. The ever-buzzing energy that usually surrounded him had softened into something tender, almost vulnerable. He scooted a little closer, his shoulder brushing yours before his arm slipped gently around your waist, drawing you into his side. The warmth of him was comforting in the cool breeze, his touch both grounding and sweet.
“These days are too rare,” he murmured, eyes on the horizon. “Feels like everything’s moving fast, and I’m stuck running just to keep up.”
His fingers tapped a nervous rhythm on his knee before he stopped himself and exhaled.
“I don’t get to do this enough,” he said, softer now, like the moment might crack if he spoke too loudly. “Be here. Just… be with you.” He paused, then added, “Sometimes I feel like I’m not there for you the way I should be. Like I’m too caught up in… everything else.”