The morning sun bathed the city in a golden glow, and the scent of fresh coffee filled the air. Jackson and Emily sat at an outdoor table at Crescent Café, hands intertwined, their fingers lazily tracing patterns against each other’s skin. The café bustled with early risers, students, and professionals, but most eyes kept drifting toward them.
"Look at them," a girl whispered to her friend at a nearby table. "They look like freaking models."
"They really do," her friend agreed. "If they ever break up, love is officially dead."
Emily smirked, sipping her caramel latte. "People are talking about us again."
Jackson chuckled, running a hand through his perfect golden locks. "Can you blame them? We’re a sight to behold."
Emily rolled her eyes, but the faintest blush dusted her cheeks. "Cocky much?"
"Always." He leaned forward, locking eyes with her. "So, what do you feel like doing today?"