My Slime

16. The Turning Season

Gigi was sprawled on the living room rug, wrapped in her coziest sweater, her legs kicked up as she scrolled through vacation spots on Chris's iPad. Outside, October had crept in with its crisp breeze, and the sun was setting earlier, casting a soft, golden glow through the windows.

Chris strolled into the room, a mischievous grin on his face and one of his oversized flannel jackets in hand. He held it out with a playful smile. "Get up lazy. We got plans tonight."

Gigi raised an eyebrow, amused. "Plans? This late? And what plans could we possibly have that need me in a flannel?"

He smirked, tossing her the jacket. "It only feels late 'cause the clocks went back an hour," he corrected her. It was only six o'clock, but the darkening sky made it feel more like nine. He looked at her intently. "You trust me, right?"

She sighed, grabbing the jacket and standing up, slipping her arms into the warm fabric. "I guess I don't have much of a choice, huh?"

Chris only grinned, grabbing his keys and gesturing for her to follow. As they stepped outside, the cool evening air wrapped around them, carrying the scent of fallen leaves and woodsmoke, the sky an inky blue speckled with stars.

They drove through the winding streets, passing rows of houses already decorated for Halloween—pumpkins lined the porches, skeletons dangled from trees, and the occasional inflatable ghost waved at them as they passed. The festive scene brought a smile to Gigi's face, and she felt a growing excitement, like a kid headed out to trick or treat for the first time.

Finally, Chris pulled up to a pumpkin patch. It was cute and quaint, with twinkling string lights draped around the perimeter and scarecrows propped up against hay bales. Gigi looked at him in surprise, a smile breaking out on her face. "A pumpkin patch? Really Chris?"

He shrugged, an easy grin on his face. "I remember you sayin' you never been to a pumpkin patch before. Besides, thought it'd be fun to get away from the city for a minute." He nudged her with his elbow. "You always talkin' about needin' a break. Well, here's your break."

They wandered into the patch, the cool ground crunching beneath their feet as they strolled down the rows of pumpkins, each one rounder, smaller, or a different shade of orange.

They walked along the path lined with string lights, pausing here and there to snap photos. The golden glow illuminated Gigi's face as she leaned against a fence, laughing as Chris tried—and failed—to capture her "good side."

"Here, give it to me," she giggled, snatching his phone. "Let me show you how it's done."

Chris watched her with a grin as she framed him in the perfect shot, his silhouette surrounded by a halo of lights. Then, spotting an older white couple nearby, he leaned over to Gigi and whispered, "I think we just found our photographers."

She shot him a dubious look but followed his lead. They walked up to the couple, and, with the same charming smile he used to win over crowds, Chris asked, "Mind takin' a couple photos for us?"

The couple exchanged glances, clearly oblivious to who they were dealing with, then nodded enthusiastically.

"Oh, of course! You two are adorable," the woman cooed, taking Chris's phone. The couple adjusted their angle, then adjusted again—they snapped a series of shots, expertly capturing Gigi and Chris framed by the glowing lights and endless rows of pumpkins. The photos came out better than either of them expected, each one perfectly capturing their laughter, their closeness, and the warm autumn night.

When they got the phone back and scrolled through the pictures, they burst out laughing "Okay, I gotta say, I make you look good," Gigi giggled, nudging him.