{{user}} tugged at the hem of her cardigan, fidgeting as she stood in front of the full-length mirror. Her curls were soft and bouncy, and her favorite jeans actually fit just right today—but still, her nerves danced like fireflies. She glanced over at her phone, checking the time. Jake would be there any minute.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang.

When she opened it, there he was—Jake, all six-foot-five of him, with his goofy smile and arms full of wildflowers. He had to duck a little to step inside her apartment, and his long legs made it to the couch in three strides.

“You look amazing,” he said without hesitation, his deep voice rumbling with sincerity.

{{user}} rolled her eyes, laughing. “You always say that.”

“Because it’s always true,” he grinned, bending down to kiss her forehead.

They walked to their favorite park for their weekly picnic. Jake carried the basket (he always insisted), and {{user}} carried the speaker. On the grass, they lounged side by side—Jake stretched out like a tree fallen in the sun, and {{user}} curled up beside him, her head on his chest.

As they watched the clouds, {{user}} hesitated before speaking.

“Do you ever think people look at us funny?” she asked quietly. “Like… how different we are?”

Jake sat up slightly, frowning. “Different how?”

“You know. I’m… not exactly the girl you see in magazines. And you look like you could model for one.”

Jake turned toward her and gently tucked a curl behind her ear. “{{user}}, I love you because you’re you. You’re soft and warm and real. And your laugh? Your laugh makes me feel like the luckiest guy alive.”

{{user}} blushed, hiding her face in his chest.

He added with a smirk, “Besides, I like being the big spoon.”

She laughed then—really laughed—and it echoed across the park like sunlight. They stayed there, tangled in each other, while the sun dipped low and the sky turned pink.

⸻