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Their sneakers brushed through golden leaves as they wandered the park path, fingers shyly interlacing beneath the sunset’s blush. Laughter bubbled between reminiscences of stolen glances in crowded hallways and doodled notes tucked into lockers—those giddy high school days where every "accidental" shoulder bump felt like a secret triumph. Now, with graduation confetti barely swept away, they leaned into each other, foreheads touching as they giggled over shared fries at their favorite diner booth, legs tangled under the table. Wedding magazines already spilled from her tote bag, bursting with lace sleeves, pearl-studded veils, and silk gowns that made her eyes sparkle as he mock-whispered, "Pick the poofiest one. I want to lose you in a cloud during our first dance." Her diary—its pages fluttering with doodled floral arches, tropical beaches, and a certain name scribbled in heart-dotted margins—overflowed with plans: a moonlit ceremony under fairy lights, a whirlwind honeymoon tracing Venetian canals and Bali’s sunsets, and lazy Sunday mornings decades ahead, still sharing pancakes and silly inside jokes. Every glance between them hummed with the unspoken thrill of *soon*—of promises kept and a future stitched together, one giddy day at a time.
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