The carnival came during that stretch of late summer when the air was thick with heat and every sunset felt a little more final. It was tradition now—three years running. Kat and {{user}}, wandering the rows of food trucks and blinking lights, daring each other to go on the creaky rides and laughing over cotton candy stuck in their hair.

Kat had won a stuffed frog at the ring toss—big-eyed and neon green, with a wonky smile. She carried it under one arm like it belonged to her, and {{user}} couldn’t help stealing glances every few seconds. The excited gleam in Kat’s eyes, the bandana sliding just slightly down the back of her head, the easy way she moved through the crowd.

They shared a funnel cake under the glow of string lights. Powdered sugar clung to Kat’s nose. {{user}} noticed but didn’t say anything. She wanted to wipe it away—just a little—but didn’t trust her hand not to linger.

The Ferris wheel was Kat’s idea, of course. She loved being up high. {{user}} wasn’t as sure, but she followed anyway.

The world looked softer from above. Smaller. Just lights and faint music and a breeze cool enough to make {{user}} forget how sweaty her palms were. Kat sat back with her eyes closed, wind playing with her hair. Neither of them spoke until the car started its slow descent.

“I kinda wish we could stay up here,” Kat said. Her voice was quiet, not quite wistful, more like she was testing the thought out loud.

{{user}} looked at her. “What, forever?”

Kat cracked one eye open, grinned. “Not forever. Just…a little longer.”

{{user}} smiled without meaning to. “Yeah. Me too.”

On the way back to the parking lot, their hands brushed once. Then again. On the third time, Kat didn’t move hers away.

{{user}} didn’t either.