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"Tell me your wildest dream," she urged, turning to face me.
"Seeing the world with someone special. Sharing stories, making memories."
"Someone special, huh?" A hint of playfulness crept into her voice.
"Yup." I met her gaze, the fading light casting shadows across her features. "Pretty wild, right?"
"Wild and wonderful." Her thumb stroked the back of my hand. "Just like us."
The sun dipped lower, dragging the day into twilight. We sat there, two kindred spirits dreaming out loud, wrapped up in the magic of beginnings and the warmth of an ending day.
I leaned back against the tree, its bark rough through my shirt. Agatha's head found my shoulder, a soft weight that sent a current of warmth through me. Her breath was steady, a gentle rhythm against the fabric of my tee.
"Nice," she murmured, her voice a whisper in the cooling air.
"Perfect," I replied, my arm finding its way around her shoulders with an ease that surprised me. The world quieted to just us, the rustle of leaves and the distant laughter of families packing up their day.
Her fingers played along my forearm, tracing invisible patterns. I pulled her closer, our sides pressing together, sharing warmth as shadows stretched across the grass.
"Hey, let's take some pictures," Agatha said, sitting up with a sudden spark in her eyes.
"Photos?" My heart kicked up a notch, but her grin was contagious. I always looked horrible in pictures.
"Come on, it'll be fun." She scrambled to her feet, pulling out her phone with a flourish.
"Okay, okay." I stood, brushing off bits of grass from my jeans.
She posed with a duck face, then switched to mock-serious, eyebrows knitted. Her flash half blinded her, but she didn't care; she kept going.
"Your turn, Adonis." She wiggled her eyebrows at me.
"Adonis does not make duck faces," I said, but I tried anyway, lips puckered, feeling utterly ridiculous.
"Priceless!" She doubled over, snapping picture after picture.
Then we were both at it, making faces, striking over-the-top poses. Laughing so hard that my stomach hurt. I forgot about being self-conscious; I forgot everything but the girl with the camera and the way she looked at me like I was the only one in her world.
"Here, do this one with me." She held up her hand for a high five, just out of reach.
I jumped for it, our palms slapping together, the sound sharp in the quiet park. She caught the moment mid-air, our faces stretched in wide, uninhibited smiles.
"Got it!" She showed me the screen, both of us frozen in a goofy triumph.
"Definitely frame-worthy," I admitted, chuckling.
"Best first week ever," she said, tucking her phone away, her hand finding mine again.
"Agreed." There was no need for more words; the squeeze of her hand said it all.
We left the park with the sky painted in twilight hues, a collection of silly photos, and Rufus by our sides.
Pebbles clicked under our feet as we ambled back to my place. I glanced at Agatha, her hand warm in mine. "Ever think about seeing the world? Like, really exploring?"
"Always." She squeezed my hand, excitement lighting up her eyes. "Imagine us in Paris, the Louvre, or a little café by the Seine."
"Reading Hemingway and sipping coffee," I chimed in, chuckling at the thought.
"Or Venice," she continued, "a gondola ride, the two of us lost in the city's canals."
