this chapter was almost titled jumanji because i couldn't think of any cute j word.
"Light, how old are you, again?" Hope had asked one afternoon, leaning back on his elbows as he lay on the blanket beneath them. A smile played on his lips.
Lightning raised an eyebrow. "Twenty-four…why?"
"Wow. Twenty-four," he pointed to the small object in her hand, "still drinking out of juice boxes."
She lightly shoved his shoulder, sipping out of her straw. "Shut it. Serah used to pack these in my lunches when I was in the military. And the apple flavor is unique."
The silver-haired man laughed, sitting up to grab a juice box of his own from their picnic basket. "I'll be the judge of that."
Hope held his box out to toast, and Lightning tapped it with her own before scooting closer to lean her head against his shoulder.