The lavender fields outside Aix-en-Provence stretched like something out of a dream—endless rows of soft purple under a sky so blue it felt unreal. Talia had never seen anything like it. The scent was everywhere, earthy and floral, clinging to her skin and hair.
She turned to Ezra, camera slung across his chest, attempting to capture the scene.
"Ez," she said, shielding her eyes. "Are you ever going to stop taking pictures and actually live this?"
He laughed. "Says the girl who's mentally writing a whole novel with every breath."
"Touché."
He took another photo—this one of her, wind sweeping through her curls, a smirk tugging at her lips. Then he lowered the camera and just looked.
"What?" she asked, caught off guard.
Ezra shrugged. "You're the most beautiful thing in the frame."
Talia rolled her eyes, but a blush betrayed her. "Cheesy."
"Absolutely," he said, stepping closer. "But true."
They walked between the rows in silence for a while, hands brushing. It had been nearly three months since they'd arrived in Marseille, and this weekend trip to the countryside was meant to be a break—from clinics, coursework, even each other's routines.
But the peace here… it felt different. Like the pause between heartbeats.
As the sun began to dip toward the horizon, casting the fields in gold, they found a bench at the edge of the rows. Talia leaned back and closed her eyes, the breeze warm against her skin.
"I could stay here forever," she murmured.
Ezra turned toward her. "Really?"
"Well… not forever. I'd need sushi and Wi-Fi eventually. But this? Right now? Yeah. I could stay."
He was quiet for a moment, watching her like he wanted to memorize every inch of her. The lavender. The light. The lines of her fingers.
And then, with no preamble, he said, "Marry me."
Talia froze.
She opened her eyes. "What?"
He looked stunned himself, as if the words had ambushed him too. "I— I didn't mean to say it like that. I mean… I meant it. I just didn't plan to say it. Not yet. Or maybe ever. I don't know."
She blinked. "Ezra."
"I know it's crazy," he said quickly. "We're still young. We've barely figured out where we're going. And I don't even have a ring. But I love you, and I know it. In my bones. In that part of me that used to overthink everything—except you."
Talia was silent for a long time.
Ezra fidgeted. "You don't have to answer. I know that sounded impulsive. Maybe it was. Maybe I ruined this moment."
She reached for his hand and pulled him to sit fully beside her. Her voice was soft when she spoke.
"You didn't ruin anything," she said.
"Then…?"
She smiled, the kind of smile that was half-tears and half-laughter. "You idiot. I would've said yes even if you'd proposed over burnt toast in our kitchen."
His mouth dropped open. "Wait—does that mean—?"
"Yes," she said. "Yes, I'll marry you."
And just like that, with lavender blooming around them and not a single person watching, they sealed a promise neither of them had rehearsed.
No grand gestures. No down-on-one-knee spectacle.
Just them. Honest. Raw. Real.
Later, as they lay in the grass watching the stars flicker to life, Ezra whispered, "I still can't believe you said yes."
Talia turned her head toward him. "I still can't believe you asked."
"Was it reckless?"
"Maybe," she said. "But so was falling in love with you. And I'd do it all again."
They lay there until the sky went black and the field around them quieted. Lavender and starlight and laughter, all braided into a future they hadn't mapped but would now face together.
No plan.
Just love.