Water runs over their shoulders as they lean toward one another, laughing too hard to stay still. One throws her head back, eyes closed, while another splashes her lightly, daring her to react. The third watches with a grin that says she knows this moment will become a story they’ll tell for years.

Their movements are unguarded — playful nudges, raised hands, mock surprise. There’s no self-consciousness in their posture, only the ease that comes from being completely comfortable in each other’s presence. The way they look at one another carries history: shared jokes, inside stories, and the kind of loyalty that doesn’t need to be spoken.

It feels spontaneous, but it isn’t accidental. They’re choosing to be here, choosing to laugh this loud, choosing to hold on to something light before life inevitably grows heavier.

For now, it’s just them — caught between splashes and smiles, sealing another memory without even realizing it.