Being Lara’s partner meant knowing how she liked her coffee, how long her lashes took to curl, and when she needed you to tell her she was the most beautiful girl in the room—even when no one else was in it.

Right now, she was standing in front of the mirror with a frown, holding up two nearly identical tops. “Do I wear the one that says I’m effortlessly perfect?” She asked, twirling. “Or the one that screams ‘I didn’t try, but I still look better than your ex’?”

You leaned against the doorway, amused. “Babe, they both say that.”

She shot you a look, then turned back to the mirror. “Flatter me again.”

You smiled. “You look perfect, Lara.”

“Obviously.” She replied, but her smirk softened as she kissed your cheek. “But thanks, baby.”