The bell above the door jingles as I step into Mr. Powell’s candy shop, my senses immediately hit by the sugary aroma of chocolate and caramel. Shelves line the walls, stacked with colorful sweets, but I’m here for one thing: Kinder Chocolate. My eyes scan the aisle until I spot it - the very last bar, gleaming like a treasure under the bright lights. I quicken my step.

Just as my fingers brush the wrapper, another hand collides with mine. Startled, I glance up. A girl with bright eyes stares back at me. She’s wearing a denim jacket covered in patches of sunflowers. Her brow furrows in determination.

“I think I got here first.” She says, her voice steady but playful. I arch a brow. “Pretty sure I touched it first.” Her lips twitch into a half-smile. “Touching isn’t claiming.” “Is that a rule?” I ask, tightening my grip on the chocolate. “It is now.” She tugs on the bar, but I don’t let go.

We stand there, locked in a silent tug-of-war over a piece of candy. Other customers glance at us, amused, but neither of us cares. The world narrows down to this absurd standoff.

“How about we split it?” I suggest, not wanting to lose but admiring her stubbornness. She hesitates, then grins. “Fair enough. But I get the bigger half.” “No way.”

We both laugh, and somehow the tension dissolves. We walk to the counter together, still holding onto the bar as if letting go would ruin the moment.

“I’m Lando, by the way.” I say as Mr. Powell rings us up.

“{{user}}.” She replies, her smile bright enough to outshine the candy wrappers around us.

As we step outside I realize something: I came for chocolate, but I might’ve found something sweeter.