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She huffs, clearly debating whether to let me help or to stubbornly insist she is fine. After a moment, she sighs and relents, holding the bag out toward me.

“Fine,” she mutters, “but just the bag.”

I take it from her, and it is heavier than I expected. “There. Problem solved.”

“Congratulations,” she says flatly. “Want a trophy?”

“Is the sass a new thing, or did I just forget how sharp your tongue is?” I shoot back.

She rolls her eyes and starts walking.

“What the hell do you have in here? Bricks?”

She rolls her eyes. “Camera equipment. And some extra stuff.”

“Extra stuff?” I echo, raising an eyebrow.

“Props,” she says simply as if that explains everything.

I smirk, unable to resist. “Just admit it…, you’re carrying enough snacks to stock a small convenience store.”

She huffs, narrowing her eyes at me. “For your information, it is not snacks. It is essentials.”

“Right?” I say, tilting my head.

She straightens, turning to glare at me with a huff of annoyance. "It’s notthatmuch."

“So, you do admit they're snacks, lots of snacks in here,” I say, chuckling.

She rolls her eyes, muttering under her breath as she adjusts her tripod. But I catch the faint blush creeping up her neck.

We walk in silence for a few moments, the night air cool against my skin. The clearing she is heading toward comes into view, a small patch of grass framed by tall trees and lit faintly by the glow of the moon.

“You do realize this is one of the most inconvenient spots,” I say, setting the bag down when we reach her destination.

She shrugs, adjusting the tripod in her hands. “The best shots don’t come from convenience.”

I watch as she sets up her tripod, her movements quick and practiced. There’s a quiet determination to her, a focus that is both frustrating and fascinating to watch.

“You’ve always had a thing for photography,” I say, leaning against a nearby tree. “But honestly? I thought you would end up being a dancer. You were good at it.”

She freezes for a moment, her hands stilling on the tripod. Then she straightens, her gaze fixed on the horizon. “Yeah, well…, some dreams are worth giving up.”

She smiles faintly, a touch of sadness in her eyes. “I enjoy this,” she continues, gesturing to the camera. “Capturing emotions. Bringing them to life. It is…, fulfilling.”

After a moment, I clear my throat, shifting the bag in my hands. “You didn’t take it with you.”

She blinks, “What?”

“The camera I got you,” I clarify. “You didn’t take it when you left.”

She freezes this time, her fingers hovering over the lens. For a long second, she does not move. Then, slowly, she shrugs.

“I didn’t need to,” she says lightly, but there is something too casual in her tone.

I narrow my eyes, my gaze locked on her. “You did not take most of the things I bought for you. Why?”

“What would’ve been the point?” She says finally, her voice is quiet but firm.