The fairgrounds were a little ways away from your university campus. It was tucked away in fields that had gone into beautiful colors of yellow and orange with the season. Their were carved pumpkins lined up on each side of the path, glowing warm gold against the darkening sky.

It had that typical fall fair smell. The breeze drifted, full of cinnamon, cider, pumpkin, damp leaves and the smoke that curled from the bonfire in the center.

Simon walked at your side, shoulders brushing against yours as you walked or whenever you two had to squeeze between people. He made sure to take the side that would interact with the most people, making sure you physically didn’t have to push past anyone.

It was your fifth date with him. You two met in class a few months ago, hit it off as friends; and then he asked you to dinner one night. Ever since then, he had made plans with you whenever he could between school and work — it was sweet. He knew you were excited about this festival, so of course; he asked you to it.

His jacket smelled faintly of tobacco and cedar, not hesitating to offer it up the second he saw you shiver. It hung heavy on your shoulders, sleeves covering your hands as the warmth from him swallowed you whole.

The two of you drifted past rows of pumpkins and gourds, beneath strings of twinkling lights that were strung on poles. You paused for cider and donuts, exchanging soft banter and laughter — much like any other night you two hung out.

Later, you had found yourselves at the edge of the festival, closer to the tree line and away from the large crowd.

Simon shifted closer, his hand reaching out and brushing against yours — almost shy for a man so broad and sure of himself. For a second he didn’t move further, just let his thumb graze over the back of your hand and knuckles. Waiting to see if you’d pull away.

When you didn’t, he straightened up a bit; clearing his throat. His other hand came up and brushed a few strands of hair from your face, a little breathy laugh leaving him.

“{{user}}… I—” he muttered, glaze flickering from your eyes down to your mouth; any other words caught up in the moment. Simon leaned in, closing his eyes before pressing his lips to yours.