"Always," she replied. "Now, let's go. We're burning daylight."
He always did. He’d pause at the summit of the "Dragon Tail" slide, looking back with a grin that showed off a missing front tooth. He’d wait until her hand gripped the safety rail before he took the plunge into the woodchips below.
He stood up, offering his hand. This time, they walked out of the park at exactly the same pace.
"Sorry," he panted, leaning his head on her shoulder. "Thanks for waiting."
As the years blurred, the playground changed. The blue paint was replaced by sleek steel, and their strides grew longer.
Leo sat down beside her, breathless from the walk from the station, looking at the girl who had been his anchor since they were small enough to fit through the crawl-tubes.