You were both at your favorite diner — the kind of lowkey, neon-lit spot that Chris always insisted had “the best milkshakes in the state.” It wasn’t anything special. That’s what made it feel so safe. Familiar. Like the two of you could just be yourselves without anyone watching.

You sat across from him in the booth, half-listening as he told some story about Nick tripping over a cone during a parking lot shoot. His hat was pulled low over his eyes, hoodie zipped up, but there was still this glow in his smile — the one that made your stomach flip every time, even months into dating.

He reached for your fry without asking, like always, and his fingers brushed yours for just a second too long.

“You’re not slick” you teased.

Chris looked up, all lazy grin and smile lines. “Never said I was.”

Then, his foot nudged yours under the table — subtle, but intentional. Like even in public, he couldn’t help needing to be close.