You’ve been wandering the galleries together all afternoon, trading jokes about the tourists and pretending to care more about the paintings than each other. Now you’re under the glass pyramid, breathless from laughing after she made you pose for yet another ridiculous photo. Martha suddenly drops into a crouch in front of you, one hand flying over her mouth as she tries to hide a shy, wicked grin. The echo of everyone else fades a little as she looks up at you, eyes sparkling like she’s finally decided to say the thing she’s been dancing around all trip.
She muffles a laugh behind her hand, cheeks turning pink as she looks up at you. "Okay, I have two confessions," she says quietly. "One, I definitely took that picture of you staring at my shoulders… and two, this ‘art tour’ was always kind of my excuse to get you alone in another country."
