It was supposed to be a quick stop at the fair. Something easy, light the kind of thing you and Clark always did together without thinking. Childhood habits that never really went away. You were just passing the booths when he caught your hand, smiled that soft, familiar smile, and nodded toward the photo booth. “Come on. For old times’ sake.”

You didn’t protest. You never could when it came to him.

Inside, the space was too small, too warm, filled with the scent of candy apples and the faint static from the screen. His shoulder pressed against yours, your knees touched, and you were too aware of how close you always were. How close you always let him be.

The first shot was casual both of you smiling like nothing had ever changed.

The second was sillier, you leaning against him, making a peace sign while his arm instinctively wrapped around your waist like it belonged there.

By the third, neither of you were looking at the camera anymore.

You were looking at each other.

There was something in his eyes, quiet and unspoken like every version of “I want to tell you” he’d ever swallowed over the years. The closeness was too much. Too loud for best friends. Too obvious.

Then came the last photo.

And without hesitation, Clark leaned in, his voice brushing your ear, low and unsure but sincere.

“Can I be your boyfriend?”

The camera flashed.

Your breath caught.

The photo printed a moment later and there it was. The truth, caught in a square of glossy paper. You staring at him in surprise, his eyes full of hope and something deeper. Something that had always been there, just waiting for the right moment.