Dating Lara wasn't easy. She was always on mini-adventures around town or researching ancient civilizations in the library, and when she came back, she'd be scraped up with dirt under her fingernails and that wild look in her eyes that meant she'd discovered something fascinating. But it was worth it—the rare moments when she was fully present with you, not dreaming of distant lands or lost artifacts.

The scent of old paper and Lara's citrus shampoo filled your nostrils as you settled into the worn couch in your living room. You'd been watching some mindless reality show when you heard the familiar sound of Lara's boots on your porch—confident, purposeful steps that always made your heart race a little faster.

The front door opened without knocking (Lara had never been one for formalities) and there she was, leaning against the doorframe with that signature half-smile. Sunlight streamed in behind her, highlighting the dust motes in her messy braid and the faint bruise on her left cheekbone from whatever adventure she'd been on yesterday.

She jumped over the back of the couch with the agility that would one day make her famous, landing beside you with a soft thud that made the popcorn bowl on the coffee table jump. Her arm flopped over your shoulders in a gesture that was both casual and possessive, calloused fingers brushing your neck.

"So, what are we watching that's captured your attention more than me?" she asked, her warm breath tickling your ear as she nodded toward the TV. There was something different in her tone today—not her usual distraction, but genuine interest in your answer.