Halvtreds meter fra kongernes København, på en solbeskinnet plads, sad Lars.

Halfway between Kongernes København, in a sunlit square, sat Lars.

Han svævede i sin egen verden, omgivet af larmen fra byens puls og vibrerende trafik.

He floated in his own world, surrounded by the noise of the city's pulse and the vibrating traffic.

Han sad på en bænk, nyligt malet i et fantastisk sammensurium af farver.

He sat on a bench, freshly painted in a fantastic mishmash of colors.

Bukserne, endnu uvide om deres forestående skæbne, hang løst om hans brede hofter.

His pants, unaware of their impending fate, hung loosely around his wide hips.

Sommerbrisen flirtede med hårtotterne på hans isse, mens han studerede et kort over byens gader.

The summer breeze flirted with the tufts of hair on his head as he studied a map of the city streets.

Han havde mistet sin retning og forsøgte at genfinde sin vej i byens labyrint.

He had lost his way and was trying to find his path in the city's labyrinth.

Men kortet var mere en gåde end en hjælp.

But the map was more of a puzzle than a help.

På den anden side af pladsen stod Sofie.

On the other side of the square stood Sofie.

Med et forklæde bundet om maven og pensel i hånd, betrådte hun sit værk.

With an apron tied around her belly and a brush in hand, she approached her work.

Hun malte bænken, ganske usynlig for Lars, da han var fordybet i sit kort.

She painted the bench, quite invisible to Lars, as he was absorbed in his map.

Hun smilede ved synet af hans forvirring og fortsatte sit arbejde på bænken.

She smiled at the sight of his confusion and continued her work on the bench.

Men skæbnen ville det anderledes.

But fate had different plans.

En vag brise tog fat i Lars' kort og blæste det hen over pladsen.

A gust of wind caught Lars' map and blew it across the square.

Lars, fast besluttet på ikke at tabe sin vejledning, sprang op og efter det flyvende kort.

Determined not to lose his guide, Lars jumped up and chased after the flying map.

Sofie gispede, da hun så den fremmede løbe hen over pladsen, armene højt i vejret, uvidende om den malet bænk bag ham.

Sofie gasped as she saw the stranger running across the square, arms raised high, unaware of the painted bench behind him.

Lars greb kortet i luften og triumferede med det i hånden, inden han satte sig på bænken.

Lars caught the map in the air and triumphantly held it in his hand before sitting back down on the bench.

Det våde maling efterlod straks et farverigt aftryk på hans bukser.

The wet paint immediately left a colorful imprint on his pants.

Lars indså sin fejl og sprang op med et råb.

Lars realized his mistake and jumped up with a shout.

Han stirrede ned på sine bukser, chokeret over det farverige aftryk.

He stared down at his pants, shocked by the colorful mark.

Sofie klukkede af latter, forsøgte at kvæle det med hånden foran munden, men det var umuligt.

Sofie chuckled, trying to stifle it with her hand in front of her mouth, but it was impossible.

Rød i hovedet af pinlighed, mødte Lars Sofies øjne.

Red-faced with embarrassment, Lars met Sofie's eyes.

Hun holdt en hånd frem mod ham, stadig klukkende af latter, og sagde, "Kom, lad os få renset de bukser for dig.

She held out a hand towards him, still giggling, and said, "Come, let's get those pants cleaned for you."

"Historien ender på et vaskeri, hvor Lars sidder i underbukser og venter på, at hans bukser bliver rene.

The story ends at a laundromat, where Lars sits in his underwear, waiting for his pants to be cleaned.

Sofie sidder ved hans side, leende over det hele.

Sofie sits by his side, laughing all the while.

Lars kan ikke andet end at grine med.

Lars can't help but laugh along.

Han har fundet en ny ven i byens labyrint og en historie, de begge vil huske.

He has found a new friend in the city's labyrinth and a story they'll both remember.

"Jeg ville misfarve dine bukser hver dag, hvis det betød, at jeg kunne dele et smil med dig," sagde Sofie.

"I would stain your pants every day if it meant I could share a smile with you," said Sofie.

Ydmyget, rød i ansigtet, men hjertelig griner Lars.

Humiliated, red-faced, but laughing warmly, Lars replied.

"Vil du male en anden bænk i morgen?

"Will you paint another bench tomorrow?"

" spurgte han.

he asked.

Sofie nikker, og de to deler et smil.

Sofie nodded, and the two shared a smile.

Og sådan blev deres møde en uforglemmelig dag i deres liv, selvom det startede med et uheld.

And so, their meeting became an unforgettable day in their lives, even though it started with an accident.

En våd bænk i København, der satte aftryk ikke bare på Lars' bukser, men også på deres hjerter.

A wet bench in Copenhagen, leaving imprints not only on Lars' pants but also on their hearts.