A Meaningful Gift

Charlotte didn't eat all the food they bought, but she loved the experience of smelling the rich aromas, feeling the warmth of freshly cooked dishes in her hands, and standing in line like any other visitor at the night market.

Damon, on the other hand, ended up eating most of it. Not that he minded. As long as she was smiling, he'd gladly take care of whatever she left behind.

The night air had turned colder, but Charlotte wasn't ready to leave just yet. There was something comforting about walking through these familiar streets, surrounded by laughter and the conversations, reliving memories she thought she'd forgotten.

She stopped in front of a dart game stall, her eyes twinkling with nostalgia. "I used to play this with my friends," she said, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. "But my aim is so bad, I never won anything. They'd always laugh at me."