The photo prints instantly and I shake it around, helping the picture come into view. And when it does, my chest aches. I look beautiful, pressed into Nate’s body, his arms protectively around me, my free hand clutching his forearm - needing to touch him. My smile is bright and real, my eyes open and shining. But it’s Nate’s expression that has my breathing grow deeper. His head is dipped ever so slightly, his lips resting on my temple, nose in my hair. His dark eyes are closed, almost squeezed shut, as he breathes me in. He looks completely serene.
