The morning sunlight streamed through the hotel window, warm and soft, painting the room in gold. It danced across the comforter, spilled over the floor, and kissed Cameron's skin as she blinked awake. For a moment, she forgot where she was. The unfamiliar quiet, the plushness of the bed, the rhythm of a city she didn't quite know—it all disoriented her.
Then she felt it.
The weight of an arm draped across her waist. The slow, steady rise and fall of Jasmine's breath against her shoulder. The warmth of her legs tangled with Cameron's beneath the sheets.
Cameron let out a quiet breath, eyes fluttering shut again as a slow smile curled at her lips. She didn't move, not yet. She just let herself have it—the stillness, the peace, the sense of being wanted without having to prove anything. It was a rare kind of quiet, one that felt earned.
Eventually, Jasmine stirred beside her, her nose nuzzling against the curve of Cameron's neck.
"Why are you awake?" she mumbled, her voice rough and sleepy.
Cameron turned slightly, just enough to press a kiss to Jasmine's forehead. "Because I have the pleasure of waking up next to you."
Jasmine made a noise somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. "Flirt."
They stayed in bed longer than they meant to, exchanging lazy kisses and nonsense whispers, limbs tangled and reluctant to move. When they finally dragged themselves out from under the covers, the world felt softer, like it was giving them a reprieve.
Breakfast was slow and unhurried. Cameron stole bites off Jasmine's plate with zero shame, grinning when Jasmine flicked a sugar packet at her in retaliation.
They didn't make plans.
The day stretched out ahead of them like a gift—unwrapped, unscheduled, entirely theirs.
They wandered the city hand in hand, pausing for every street performer, poking their heads into every boutique that caught their eye. Jasmine tugged Cameron down quiet alleyways, pointed out murals she liked, tried on sunglasses she'd never buy. There was no rush. No destination. Just the joy of movement, of being.
At one point, Jasmine dragged her into a tiny used bookstore tucked between a wine bar and a florist. Dust clung to the air, and the scent of aged paper wrapped around them like a memory. Jasmine moved through the narrow aisles, fingers trailing along spines, occasionally pausing to flip through a page or two.
Cameron watched her from a few feet away, her chest full of something so bright it almost hurt.
"You should get one," she said, stepping closer. "Something to remember this trip."
Jasmine glanced over her shoulder. "Only if you pick it."
Cameron raised a brow. "You trust me to choose your book?"
Jasmine shrugged, but her smile was soft. "You always know what I need before I do."
Trying not to let her heart combust, Cameron ran her fingers along the shelves before landing on a dog-eared paperback with a faded cover. "This one. No reason. Just a feeling."
Jasmine took it, flipped it open, then closed it again with a small nod. "Then I guess I have to get it."
The rest of the day passed in golden moments.
They fed each other bites of ice cream. Took pictures in a kitschy photo booth and made ridiculous faces on purpose. Jasmine convinced Cameron to dance to a street violinist's rendition of La Vie en Rose, right there on the cobblestone. Cameron laughed through it, but something about the way Jasmine looked at her—like she was the whole world—made her legs go weak.
At sunset, Jasmine insisted on a boat ride.
Cameron rolled her eyes, called it "peak romance cliché," but didn't hesitate to follow her onto the little dock. They found a seat near the back, and as the boat glided across the water, the city's lights slowly shimmered to life around them.
The sky shifted from blue to amber to soft, dreamy pink.
Cameron rested her head against Jasmine's shoulder, her eyes half-closed, heart full. "You know," she said softly, "I could stay like this forever."
Jasmine's fingers traced slow, absentminded patterns over the back of Cameron's hand. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. Just us. No phones. No drama. No… unraveling. Just this. Just you."
Jasmine didn't respond right away. The quiet between them wasn't awkward, but it felt heavy, like she was choosing her words with great care.
Then, finally, she turned her head and pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to Cameron's temple. "Then let's make the most of it while we can."
Cameron's breath caught, just a little. There was something in Jasmine's voice—something not quite sad, but not quite sure. Like she was saying goodbye to a future they both knew might not arrive.
Cameron didn't press. She just squeezed Jasmine's hand and leaned in closer, letting herself believe in the moment, in the magic of now.
They sat in silence as the sky darkened, the waves rocking gently beneath them. The boat's lights flickered on. Somewhere in the distance, a bell chimed.
And in that golden quiet, Cameron decided that even if this wasn't forever—even if the storm came tomorrow—she would choose this again.
Every time.