At some point, Phoebe thinks the smile is going to be burned into her face— it's going fixed there, permanently, and it'll never drop because today had been the perfect day and she's walking next to Jack and the leaves are almost knee-deep and she keeps thinking about the grocery store, the domesticity of it all, and the walk downtown, and piling into his truck, and Jack's red nose and cheeks and how she'd kissed it, trying to warm him, and Phoebe really can't think of anything more perfect.
Except maybe a tree house sleepover.
Except perhaps a tree house sleepover with Jack.
Here, somewhere sacred to Jack's childhood. She couldn't wait!
Phoebe slings her backpack higher up on her shoulder— swings Jack's arm with a hum. It feels good. It feels perfect. It feels like the rest of their lives stretching out before them, there for what they wanted, however they wanted.
"Do you think there will be wild animals? Because— I'm really excited about all our food, and stuff, and my legs are shorter than yours, so I won't be able to run very fast, so I think if I want to survive I'm going to have to toss food to survive."
"Though— you should know, I would let a bear eat me, if it means you get a clean get away."
Could a bear even scale a tree-house?
She keeps swinging his arm, silent, grinning at him in earnest.
