It was the kind of day that seemed to be taken from a good song. The sky painted gold, the muffled sound of laughter and music in the background, the smell of cotton candy and popcorn in the air. Tadhg and {{user}} walked side by side through the center fair, their fingers almost touching each other, until she stopped abruptly, her eyes shining.

"Look at that," she pointed out, with a corner smile, "one of those old photo booths... shall we?"

Tadhg hesitated, raising an eyebrow, suspicious.

"Do you want to get into a tiny box with me, with a camera that will eternalize our crooked face?"

"Exactly," she smiled, already pulling him by the hand.

Inside the cabin, the space was small and warm, shoulders touching, knees almost colliding. She put the coin in the machine, the warning blinked: 3, 2, 1...

"Make a face!" She said, and at the first click he was tongue out, she with wide eyes.

In the second, she turned her face and gave a kiss on his cheek - Tadhg locked for a second, surprised and blushed.

Third click: he looked at her. And she looked back, a half smile on her face. Time seemed to take a break. None of them blinked.

Fourth click: that's when he leaned his forehead against hers and whispered, softly, as if the moment was too fragile for loud words:

"You make everything look lighter."

The camera captured the exact moment she closed her eyes, smiling like someone who also felt her heart tight for something too good.

When they left the cabin, laughing and tripping over each other, he took the photo strip that came out of the machine. He looked at each one carefully, before stying it in his jacket pocket.

"I'll keep this. For when the world weighs."

"Or for when you want to remember that I'm infinitely more photogenic than you," she provoked, lightly pushing his shoulder.

Tadhg gave a low laugh, but didn't answer right away. After a few seconds, he murmured:

"You're in all of them... so, it's already the best part, right?"

And before she could play back, he took her hand - this time without hesitation - intertwining his fingers with hers as they continued walking, now in silence, but full of something that might have already been love.