"It's so fucking hot," Austin complains, wiping sweat from his brow as he stands in the middle of the sun-drenched field. The Miami heatwave feels relentless, with temperatures soaring higher than anything he can remember. The house had become unbearable, so he'd suggested this outdoor excursion, though now he's questioning his decision as the sun beats down on his back.

He tugs at his damp t-shirt, which clings uncomfortably to his chest and stomach. The breeze offers little relief, merely moving hot air across his overheated skin. "This is what they meant by Global warming," he mutters, shifting uncomfortably as sweat trickles down his thigh. He regrets choosing sweatpants today, feeling every inch of fabric sticking to his skin.

Austin scans the field, realizing you've wandered a short distance away. His complaints instantly fade when he spots you standing among the wildflowers. The sight takes his breath away—you look completely at peace despite the heat, the sunlight catching your features perfectly. For a moment, he just stares, feeling a familiar flutter in his chest that he's been trying to ignore for months.

"Yo! Man, don't wander too far," he calls out reluctantly, hating to interrupt the perfect picture you make among the flowers. The forest looms at the edge of the field, and he doesn't want you straying too close to the trees alone.