After That Turtle Insta Story, All I Can Think Of Is How Sweet Going To A Petting Farm/zoo With Carter

After that turtle insta story, all I can think of is how sweet going to a petting farm/zoo with Carter would be

the bestest insta story he ever posted, hands down.

The two of you are a bit out of place at the petting farm and stick out like a sore thumb among all the children and their families. In fact, taking a close look around will confirm that you and Carter are the only couple present in that time without children to accompany you, but it doesn’t bother either of you. Or really, anyone else. There’s just so much to see and so many animals to pet that most people are concerned with running after their own kids and making sure they’re keeping safe despite the animals being pretty docile: one enclosure has a few sheep and their babies, another has domestic goats and across from them, a few ponies are lounging around underneath the warm summer sun. The map you received upon arrival also confirmed a few ponds hosted koi fish and turtles, while birds like ducks and geese were left to roam freely.

“Carter,” you say carefully, inching a little behind him while narrowing your eyes towards a group of geese who seemed to have taken a particular interest towards the two of you as you weaved your way towards the nearby bodies of water.

Carter, having been a little distracted by your surroundings, barely tears his eyes away from the area holding several rabbits. For the time being, most of the children claimed territory there so the two of you made a unanimous decision to circle back to it at some later point when it’ll surely be less busy. After all, the ponies are just a stone throw away.

He hums in question, then seems to note that you’re using him as a human shield and a laugh leaves his mouth in surprise. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of a few birds,” he says, looking from you to the geese.

“I’m not scared,” you correct although your almost defensive stance says otherwise. It’s as if you’re keeping yourself ready to engage a fight or flight instinct though when it comes to those particular birds, it’s almost always the latter. “It’s just unsettling how closely they’re watching. Look at that, they’re literally zeroed in on us.”

“So, you’re scared,” he concludes because he knows you too well to buy into your bullshit and apparently, today he doesn’t even feel like pretending much. It’s hard to when you’re pinching the back of his shirt, almost gluing yourself to his back.

Between the two of you, he’s the bigger one and though you’re pretty sure absolutely no human on earth could win a fight against a group of geese that may randomly be set off hissing in warning at any given moment, you’re willing to let him take the fall for you on this front.

“They won’t do anything to you, you know that right?” he says in a matter of fact tone that makes you throw a glare up at him, though it lacks any heat. “Here, look.” Carter clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth quietly as if that’d lure the birds closer and when he actually begins taking a few steps closer to them, a rush of no, no, no leaves your mouth, words stumbling into each other. It makes him laugh, this time properly and you shove your shoulder into his body lightly.

“Yes they will and they won’t even hesitate to,” you defend. “My grandparents’ neighbours used to have them around their house and every time I went around, I swear they could tell whenever I walked past. Actually, I’m pretty sure they had some sort of anti-me radar because they’d always hiss even beyond the gate—hey, don’t laugh! I’m serious.”

As he leads the way ahead, still caught up in a fit of laughter, he brings his arm up and a little behind him to pull you forward to walk by his side instead, reeling you in even closer so he can drop a kiss to the top of your head.

“No one and nothing is or will ever be anti-you. There’s no such thing,” he tells you and his words prompt an involuntary smile to form on your mouth. “Are you sure you didn’t do something to set them off?”

“Definitely. I had a very strong sense of self-preservation even as a four year old,” you mumble and relax into his hold; half because you know he wouldn’t let anything you don’t like come close to you and half because, well, Carter is cozy.

The two of you make several stops on your way towards the pond hosting turtles because you know that’s the main attraction for him. Over the course of the past few weeks, Carter has been dropping several not-so-subtle hints to you that maybe the two of you could consider having one for the simple fact that he likes them. Really, really likes them. You lost track of the amount of times he’d message you various links to online articles about caring for turtles or the number of photos he’d send your way along with random facts about them. You built up quite the arsenal of turtle-related information recently so much so that you’d consider yourself a damn near expert in the field.

You don’t really know what you’ll do with the fact that one of the oldest recorded turtles on Earth is 188 years old, but you preserve that fact as if it’ll come in handy one day. Who knows when you’ll join the team on a quiz next and win them a ten point question with that. You appreciate Carter’s enthusiasm, though, and gradually, you feel yourself being won by his arguments.

Not to mention your growing fondness and interest for the National Geographic Kids’ pages which he tells you about at random points of the day because apparently, they have the best facts.

“Babe, look,” he says breathlessly, drawing you out of your thoughts.

It doesn’t take much to figure out he’s pointing towards one of the fawns that is currently resting its head on the wooden railing, watching the two of you with big Bambi eyes that have your heart swelling. Carter leads the way slowly, carefully as if scared he might scare it away; all the while, he’s cooing softly and if you weren’t in the current situation, you know you would’ve squealed over how absolutely adorable he’s being. Here’s a grown six-foot man who rakes in praise from commentators across the league for his fantastic goalkeeping, metaphorically melting over tiny animals. It’s not exaggerating to say you can feel your heart actually melting.

Actually, consider it a puddle because Carter reaches out carefully, stopping when the fawn lifts its head so that he can give it all the time it needs to decide if it wants to accept him or step away. The fawn watches the two of you, remaining entirely still but it must sense you’re not approaching with any ill intentions. Slowly, it rests its head back down on the railing and when Carter’s palm meets the top of its head, he caresses the fawn slowly, carefully.

A whispered “oh my god” leaves your mouth in wander. Thankfully, he allowed you to slip from his hold without any resistance and you have just enough space to pull out your phone and take a photo of the moment. It’s picture perfect, but you don’t let your eyes linger too long on the device if you have the real deal right in front of you.

Carter is smiling softly, bending down just a little so that he is almost exactly eye-to-eye with the fawn whose ears wiggle a little before settling. He’s talking quietly. Some words, you can’t make out but you pick up on the “hey buddy” he greets it with, along with other phrases like “aren’t you so pretty”. You have to physically bite down on your bottom lip because the sight is really one in a million. Part of you wants to pull Carter towards you, squeeze him in an embrace as if that’s the only way you could properly express the intensity of your love for him while part of you wants to just let him be so you can drink in the sight. It’s the latter that wins, of course. You’ll shower him with plenty of love and affection at some point later on.

Slowly, you approach the fawn yourself, brushing your palm gently down the back of its neck. The baby sighs shortly but you guess contentedly, and a grin forms on your mouth as you watch it close its eyes.

There’s movement behind it that you catch out of the corner of your eyes and when you tip your head up a little, you watch another fawn approach. This one has a dusting of white fur all across its head that makes you think of constellations and it’s also a little smaller. So much so that once it finally reaches the wooden railing, you have to actually crouch down a little in order to slide your hand between it. You keep your hand held out, palm upwards and let the animal sniff it curiously although it probably deduced from its sibling’s welcoming behavior that your and Carter aren’t a threat. The smaller fawn takes a few steps closer, effectively closing the distance between its head and your hand. When it pushes closer even further, its nose brushes against yours and you laugh softly.

The unmistakable shutter of a phone camera goes off and when you look up, Carter has his device pointed towards you.

“Thanks for my new wallpaper,” he says and you laugh quietly.

“Same to you,” you respond.

You turn your attention back to the fawn that has come to you, brushing your fingers lightly across the top of its head and along its neck but your bliss is interrupted by the distant sounds of children squealing. They must’ve realized the two of you had drawn the fawns closer and were probably bounding towards the enclosure given their parents’ yells of “slowly so we don’t disturb them”.

It’s a bit difficult to tear yourself away but before you do, you caress your thumb against the side of the fawn’s head. “Won’t be gone too long, baby,” you say towards it.

When you rise back up to your full height and look towards Carter, he releases something akin to a dreamy sigh. “Babe,” he says towards you and you laugh, shaking your head slowly.

It’s your turn to read him like a book. “We can’t have fawns, Carter,” you tell him and cozy up to his side again, pulling him away a little just as a family draws in closer. “I’m pretty sure apartments in Philadelphia aren’t very fawn friendly. I don’t think they’d like it themselves.”

“Then I’ll get us a house way out of the city,” he says with such conviction in his tone that you can’t help but roll your eyes to playfully.

“Let’s settle on turtles first and then we’ll take it from there, okay?”

“Oh, so you do want one.”

You pretend to sigh heavily, shoulders drooping a little. “In theory, I’m an expert at caring for them. Might as well put that to practice now, don’t you think?”

Carter leans down and his answer comes in the form of a kiss he presses to your mouth, forcing you to drop the act and perk up immediately.

“Who would’ve thought? Carter Hart, pet whisperer.” You look up towards him, take in the sheer joy on his face and then shake your head. “Actually, I’m not surprised at all. But no geese.”

“Damn, just when I was planning on names,” he sighs heavily, then promptly laughs when you let out a sharp “Carter” in warning.