Zion

The sun was beginning to set, tinting the sky with orange and pink hues. Laughter echoed through the open-air dining area, where a group of friends occupied one of the largest tables. Scattered plates, half-empty glasses, and crumpled napkins betrayed that they had been there for a while—eating, talking, joking, simply enjoying the late afternoon.

After a while, someone had the idea of ​​crowding all the chairs around the large round table in the center. "Let's play a game!" one of the girls said excitedly. "Truth or dare?" suggested another. "How about kiss or dare?" one shouted, drawing a general laugh.

It was at that moment that he arrived. The entire group turned their heads almost simultaneously, as if a different energy had just approached. It was him—the friend everyone was talking about, the handsome one, the charming one, the one who looked like he'd stepped out of an ad. As soon as he joined the group, the girls exchanged glances and snickered, while the boys playfully slapped him on the back.

"You're right on time," one of them said. "We're starting the game now. And you go first."

He smirked, accepting the challenge. He looked around, observing the girls. They all seemed to be vying for his attention—impeccable makeup, strong perfumes, practiced smiles. But something made him look away to the corner of the table.

There, apart from the group, a girl sat quietly, immersed in a book. She didn't seem to mind the game, nor the stares. The light wind made a few strands of her hair move, and her skin—clean, natural—seemed to glow in a simple yet beautiful way.

Without a word, he stood, walked over to her, and with one calm movement, gently cupped her chin, making her look up. Her eyes widened in surprise. Before she could say anything, he kissed her—a quick, gentle kiss, but full of meaning.

The whole group reacted at the same time: screams, laughter.