"Market day, James! Come on, all the good produce'll be gone!"

"It's 9 AM, Jaige. They're not going to run out of produce."

"Well—Are you even close to being ready?"

"Can't rush beauty, my beloved."

"What do you even have to do to get 'ready'?"

He swung out from the bathroom door frame, shaking his head with a mock sigh. "Oh, Jaige, you think all this happens naturally?"

I sauntered over to where he leaned, his height momentarily level with mine. With a playful smile, I planted a kiss on his nose. "Yes, I do."

He let out a rich, hearty laugh, his lips brushing mine before he deepened the kiss just for a moment, leaving us both breathless.

"Now put your shoes on and let's go!" I playfully swatted his backside, and he let out a flirtatious hoot.

"Keep teasing me, and we'll never get to the market," James called from the bathroom.

I grinned from ear to ear, warmth blooming in my chest at how easily we fell into this rhythm.

The sun bathed the market in golden light as vendors called out prices, and families bustled through the narrow lanes. The air was rich with the scent of fresh herbs, baked bread, and the earthy sweetness of ripe tomatoes. I wove through the stalls, collecting produce, my fingers brushing against James's hand whenever he came near.

"Mulțumesc," I smiled, threading the bag of vegetables through my arm. The vendor waved cheerfully as I moved to the next table. But then I stopped in my tracks, eyes wide.

"James, look what I found!" I could barely contain my excitement, holding up my prized discovery.

He raised a brow, chuckling as he took the small object from my hands to inspect it.

"Uh... what is it?" His mouth twisted slightly in confusion as his eyes scanned over the item.

"It's a Polaroid!" I said, practically bouncing on the spot.

"Is that... what exactly is that?"

"These cameras were invented in the forties, Buckaroo."

"Jaige... not the nickname—" He groaned, but with a fond smile playing on his lips.

"Wait, you've never seen one of these? I think they were invented in... 1948?"

"Sugar, I died in 1944," he said with a mock-serious tone.

I gasped, then burst into laughter. "Oh my God, I forgot!"

His laugh boomed across the market square. "Oh, man... where's the rest of it?"

"This is it! It's handheld!"

Bucky furrowed his brows, tilting his head as he gazed at the Polaroid. "You're telling me this takes a picture? Holy cow."

I turned to the vendor. "Is there film?"

He grinned and spun around, returning with two milk crates filled with film canisters. "Take all," he said with a kind smile.

My eyes widened. "That's... a lot of film. We can't possibly take all of it."

But the vendor waved his hand dismissively. "No one else wants it. But I see love in you two. You need photos—to hold onto this love forever. Vă puteți uita la aceste fotografii pentru tot restul vieții, iar dragostea voastră nu va dispărea niciodată." His eyes sparkled as he gestured toward Bucky and me. "Please. Take it all. No charge."

I felt my cheeks flush as I turned to James. He hadn't taken his eyes off the camera, already marveling at it as though it were some lost treasure.

"Sir, I—" I started, but the vendor gently insisted.

"Luați-o, luați-o!"

"I think that's a wonderful idea," James whispered in my ear, his voice laced with amusement. His grin stretched wide, eyes twinkling with boyish excitement.

The vendor quickly packed up our bounty. I loaded a canister into the camera and turned it toward us. "Smile!" I said, pressing the button. James leaned in, his cheek against mine, and I giggled as the film spat out with a satisfying whir.

James's eyes grew wide with fascination. "It just... pops out like that?" He looked like a kid on Christmas morning.

I couldn't stop shaking the photo, knowing it did nothing but still caught up in the giddiness of the moment. I sang, "Shake it like a Polaroid picture," laughing when James raised a brow.

As we wandered through the market, James couldn't help but keep glancing at the camera. Every now and then, his gaze would shift to me—soft, affectionate. "Jaige," he said quietly, pulling me to the side near a flower stall. His fingers brushed against my cheek. "Let me take one of just you."

I blinked in surprise, my heart warming under his tender gaze. "Why just me?"

"Because I want to capture this moment," he murmured, his voice almost reverent. "You, right here, like this... you look perfect."

Heat rushed to my cheeks. "James—" But before I could protest, he had already lifted the camera, his eyes sparkling as he snapped the photo. The film slid out smoothly, and he caught it with a smile.

"Beautiful," he said, shaking the picture gently, though his eyes never left mine. "I'm keeping this one. Forever."

I playfully rolled my eyes. "Forever, huh?"

"Forever," he repeated, with a certainty that sent a shiver down my spine.

A few more stalls later, as I tucked fresh bread into our basket, I noticed him fiddling with the camera again, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Okay, my turn," I said, laughing. "We need another one of both of us. It's not fair you get to hoard all the memories."

He grinned. "You're right." Wrapping his arm around my shoulders, he held the camera up at arm's length, making sure we both fit in the frame. "Ready?"

I leaned into him, nuzzling into his neck, feeling the warmth of his body seep into mine as the camera clicked.

The photo popped out, and this time I grabbed it, carefully shaking it. As the image came into view, I couldn't help but smile. There we were—laughing, carefree, completely in love. I stared at it, my chest tightening with affection.

"I love this one," I whispered, showing him the picture. "It's my favorite."

James glanced down at it and then looked at me, his eyes softening. "Then you should keep it."

I smiled, sliding the photo into my pocket, close to my heart. "I will. Always."

The vendor waved as we loaded up the crates. On our way out, I slipped him some money despite his protests. He called after us, "Mulțumesc cuplu frumos!"

I furrowed my brows. "I caught 'thank you,' but... what else did he say?"

James chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to our joined hands. "He called us a 'beautiful couple'." He smiled at me, his voice warm with affection. "Smart guy."

As we walked away, hand in hand, the weight of the little photo pressed against my chest gave me a strange sense of comfort. It wasn't just a silly market find anymore—it was a tiny piece of us. A memory I'd carry with me, no matter where life took us next.