He presses a kiss to my temple.
We sat like that for a while, talking about nothing in particular.
I catch him stealing little glances at me, quick ones that make my stomach flutter, and I know he’s thinking about me the same way I’m about him.
“Promise me you’ll never forget those moments,” I say quietly, watching the sunlight catch the edges of his hair. “Even when we’re back home, running around with everything else taking up all our days.”
He smiles, his hand brushing mine in a gentle squeeze. “Tilly, I couldneverforget this. It’s like my memory has built a spot just for this, and no matter how much I have on my mind, this will always linger there.”
H e leans closer until our foreheads touch.
The city fades around us. It’s just him, and I'm wrapped up in this small, perfect afternoon, and I could never ask for anything better.
Chapter 31
Luca
She looks so pretty, I swear my heart forgets how to beat for a second.
I don’t think I have ever seen Tilly be so careless.
It’s almost like every bad thing just evaporated, and she had a bounce in her step that practically made her levitate.
Every time she smiles up at me, I feel my heart grow slightly bigger, and I feel so full of life that I can breathe normally without being scared the air will disappear.
Paris has already been a dream — the kind that doesn’t end when you wake up.
I’m walking back to our hotel, the evening air still carrying that warm Parisian buzz — people laughing outside cafés, the faint sound of an accordion somewhere in the distance, the sky fading into shades of peach and lavender.
My arms are full of snacks, which makes me look ridiculous, but it’s worth it.
Tilly has demanded aproper movie night,and that means snacks.
Every. Single. One.
Sweet and salty popcorn.
Salt and vinegar chips.
Sprite.
Gummy bears.
And a bunch of French treats.
The second I open the door, her voice rings out.
“Hey! Don’t come in yet! Close your eyes!”
I chuckle, already grinning. “Why? Did you do something bad again?”
“Luca, don’t test my patience,” she scolds in that mock-serious tone that only makes me smile more. “I’m not five. Just— close them, okay?”
“Fine, fine. Closed.”
She giggles — that soft, breathy sound that always hits me right in the chest — and I feel her take the bags from my hands.
“Oh my God, I love how much bad stuff you got. Our coach would literally murder us if he saw this.”
