The warm buzz of festival energy hit Elena the moment they stepped out of the car.
The air was full—sugary scents from funnel cake stands, the faint hiss of grills, bursts of laughter carried on wind. People moved in lazy lines, groups shifting between tents and trucks, some sprawled on picnic blankets, others dancing clumsily to a live band playing near the center stage.
Alexander locked the car and walked beside her with his hands casually tucked into his jacket pockets, eyes scanning the area like he was keeping tabs on all potential exits, just in case.
"You okay?" she asked, nudging him gently with her shoulder.
He blinked, then looked at her. "Yeah. Just… people-y."
"You really don't do crowds, do you?"
"Not unless there's an engine involved."
She smiled and shook her head. "Come on, antisocial. Let's go find the donut cart before the universe implodes."
The first hour passed in a comfortable blur.
They shared a paper tray of fried Oreos, traded bites of garlic fries, and tried fizzy lemonade that turned their tongues blue. Elena teased him for the faint sugar powder stuck on the corner of his lip, and Alexander—of course—refused to wipe it off until she pointed it out three times.
Somewhere between the second food truck and the artisan booths, their hands brushed. Once. Then again. Not on purpose. Not really. But not entirely by accident either.
She didn't pull away.
Neither did he.
A few feet from a candle booth, she caught him staring.
"What?"
Alexander looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. "Nothing. You just… You seem at home here."
Elena glanced around. "At a festival?"
He shrugged. "In a place where everyone's kind of loud, kind of messy. You belong in spaces like this. Full of energy."
She tilted her head. "And you don't?"
He met her eyes then, a quiet half-smile on his lips. "I'm better in garages than crowds."
"You're better than you think," she said without really thinking, and when his smile deepened just a little, she felt her chest flutter with something equal parts warm and terrifying.
They found an empty bench near the music stage, just far enough from the crowd to hear themselves think. The sun had started its descent, casting everything in golden hues. The kind of light that made the world feel cinematic, intentional—like someone behind the scenes knew this was a scene to remember.
Elena tilted her head back to watch the sky. "I used to come to festivals like this all the time as a kid. It felt like magic then."
"Still does," Alexander said, low.
She looked over at him.
He wasn't watching the sky.
He was watching her.
And for a moment, the air between them went still.
"I used to think moments like this weren't real," she said after a beat. "Like they only happened in movies or books."
Alexander rested his arms on his knees, leaning forward slightly. "Maybe they're rare. Doesn't mean they aren't real."
She nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I guess I just didn't think I'd feel… this kind of calm around someone."
He didn't respond right away. Just looked at her again, steady and unreadable, but not cold.
Then he said, "I get it."
After a quiet stretch, Elena stood and stretched her arms overhead. "Wanna walk again before we leave?"
"Sure," he said, rising beside her.
And then—without fanfare, without warning—his hand brushed hers again. This time, she laced their fingers together.
He glanced at their hands, then at her, but didn't say anything.
He just held on.
And they kept walking.