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We sat there, side by side, just enjoying each other as silence allowed us a moment to soak in the moment.
"Angel," he started, then paused, looking at me with those eyes so blue they could rival the sky. "I'm glad you're here. Thank you... for not giving up on me."
"Me too." And I meant it. Every awkward moment, every shared giggle—it was ours. This odd, beautiful connection we had. It was real, and it was happening right now, under the open sky, surrounded by food that tasted like home.
"Ever think about what grapes would say if they could talk?" I popped one in my mouth and watched him think it over.
"Probably begging not to be eaten." He chuckled, eyes crinkling at the corners.
"Mercy, please." I smirked, adopting a high-pitched tone.
"Too late!" He pretended to gobble up an entire bunch, laughter dancing in his eyes.
We were both terrible with jokes. But together? Somehow, it worked.
"Remember that customer who thought The Great Gatsby was a self-help book?" he asked.
"Thought it'd make him great, too," I giggled, recalling the story he told me once.
"Imagine his surprise."
"Surprise is underrated." I munched on another grape, savoring how it popped in my mouth, the juices running down my chin in a drippy mess.
"Speaking of which..." His voice trailed off as he rummaged through his backpack.
"Another secret?" My heart skipped, curious.
"Something like that." He pulled out a folded piece of paper, face flushed.
"Hit me with your best shot." I leaned forward, eager and a bit nervous.
"Right." He unfolded the paper, hands trembling just a touch. "Here goes..."
He cleared his throat, and I held my breath. Something deep, something raw, flickered across his face.
"Angel of the airwaves, voice warm as summer sun," Arnold started, voice earnest. "Got me tuned in, frequency of fun."
"Frequency of fun?" I raised an eyebrow but couldn't help smiling.
"Your laugh," he continued, "a melody, a song of its own. In this lonely world, it makes me feel less alone."
"Arnold..." I whispered, chest tight. What was this feeling? Happiness? Pride?
"More than a voice, a heart, a soul, a fire." His words stumbled but didn't fall. "With you, Agatha, life's never dire."
"Never dire, huh?" I teased, warmth spreading through me.
"Never." He looked up, seeking my reaction.
"Keep going." I nudged him gently, lost in his gaze.
"Your presence, a present, no ribbons or bows needed." He paused and swallowed hard. "In your company, my loneliness receded."
Arnold's eyes met mine, a flicker of courage dancing in their depths. "Your kisses," he began, the paper trembling in his grasp, "they're like slurps of eternity, sweet and endless."
"Slurps?" I choked back a laugh, my heart hammering with affection for this man who tried so hard. The park spun slightly as warmth blossomed in my cheeks.
"Your embrace," he continued, oblivious to the awkward phrasing, "a chocolate starfish, unique and treasured."
