I was wandering through an art gallery, pretending to understand the pieces, when he appeared beside me.

“What do you think it means?” he asked, nodding toward a painting of abstract shapes.

“No clue,” I admitted, laughing.

We spent the next hour walking through the exhibit together, his commentary making me laugh more than I had in weeks. When we reached the final room, it was almost empty, the soft lighting casting shadows on the walls.

“I’m glad I ran into you,” he said, stepping closer.

His hand brushed mine, and before I knew it, he was kissing me, his fingers sliding to the back of my neck. The quiet atmosphere of the gallery made the moment feel almost surreal, like we were the only two people in the world.