After many attempts, you finally brought him to the glowing carnival. Outside your apartment, the goodbye lingered, hesitant and wrapped in a closeness neither dared to break. "After this, I won't be able to see you for quite some time." His hand lifted to your cheek, caressing it lightly, eyes dropping briefly to your lips, carrying a silent intention. Every gesture between you felt new, delicate in its restraint.

The urge to close the distance burned inside, yet all that could be done was watch him, hoping he might read your mind. "Since we're both very busy, we should meet up whenever we can." When he pulled away, you smiled sideways, a quiet urge to tease him filling the air with a gentle intimacy in the car. "What are you thinking about? You're smiling." His eyes settled on yours, perceiving every unspoken desire, but he still didn’t dare take the step.

Even so, he tilted his hand carefully, bringing it to your lips, letting them meet the subtle heat of his fingers. "Well… I think I might be very close to the answer." He whispered, his words sending a shiver of delight through your belly. You let the moment stretch a little longer, barely brushing his cheek, asking him if he might dream of you tonight. "We visit a lot of places, and I'm tired." A low gasp escaped him, rubbing the spot you had touched, while he averted his gaze, shaking his head with a faint grin.

Kiss him... just kiss him.

With a quiet growl of disapproval, you touched his cheek again, letting the intention of your gesture be clear—but that was when he caught you. "I've only confiscated it. I'll return it in due time." Their hands intertwined, and for a moment, you felt the warmth of his skin. You stayed like that, letting every heartbeat be felt between you. "All right, it's getting late. You should go home." He stroked your head with careful affection as you nodded slowly, saying goodbye, feeling a deep emptiness in your chest.

Before you could turn to open the door, his voice stopped you instantly, quick and tense, showing that he didn’t want to let you go either. "When would we be able to meet up again?" You were about to tell him not to worry, that he should rest from work, but he pulled out his phone, absorbed in his schedule. "Next week. Sunday." Inevitably, your eyes lit up at the confirmation, a flash of contained joy escaping despite your efforts to remain calm.

On impulse, you leaned toward his face, your breath catching, but when your gazes met, you whispered a good night. Before you could leave, he lifted your chin with his knuckles. "If I’m able to see you Sunday... I'll start getting excited Thursday." His lips met yours, and the soft brush of your noses made you both soften, realizing the line between friendship and something more had quietly blurred.