The scent of old paper clung to Erin's fingertips as she stepped out of the bookstore, the strap of a small paper bag looped loosely around her wrist. The warmth of the sun hit her skin, and for a second, she closed her eyes and let herself feel it—not the heat, but the moment. Simple. Light. Quietly precious.
Xander stood at her side, his head tilted with a soft curiosity she rarely saw on him. She turned toward him, her grin playful. "You didn't expect me to be a reader, did you?"
His brows lifted. "Honestly? No. I figured you were more into…burning books than reading them."
Erin gasped, feigning offense. "Excuse me, I'll have you know I used to live in the library as a kid."
Xander smirked. "Did it kick you out for talking too much?"
"Almost. I was just talking about the flaws of the book. That was the day I realized knowledge is dangerous."
That made him laugh—really laugh, head tilted back, eyes bright. It was contagious, and Erin found herself giggling too as they began walking again.
She pointed at a book cover still lingering in her thoughts. "Did you see that cover with the woman dramatically clutching her pearls? Who draws those things?"
"You mean the one where the guy looked like he bench-presses castles for fun?"
"Exactly! But let's agree that the one where the heroine fell in love with her kidnapper was the worst. That was definitely a trauma response."
He stole a glance at her. "But for the record, if I kidnapped you, you'd fall in love with me too."
She raised an eyebrow, mock serious. "You sound so sure?"
"I am."
"Why?"
"I just know it."
"Touché."
The banter lingered between them like warmth after sunlight. But under it, Erin was deeply aware of the ticking clock. This was the last day she would allow herself this freedom. Tonight, she would leave. She had to.
"Okay," Xander said suddenly. "My turn."
She blinked. "Your turn for what?"
"To pick the next stop. But since you technically still control the day's agenda—" He pointed ahead. "That."
Erin followed his gaze to a glowing neon sign flashing in blocky letters: Galaxy Arcade – Play Like a Kid Again.
She beamed. "That is the most childish thing I've ever seen."
"And?"
"And let's go."
The arcade's interior was an explosion of color, flashing lights, and electronic chimes. The air smelled like popcorn, rubber flooring, and nostalgia. Erin's eyes immediately locked onto the claw machine.
"No way," she said, marching toward it.
"Yes way," Xander said, trailing behind. "Do people still actually win on these?"
Erin inserted a token and maneuvered the claw with surgical precision. "You underestimate me, Mr. Volkov."
The claw descended, caught onto a small blue plush bunny…and dropped it at the last second.
Erin stood there, devastated. "I swear it moved."
"Rigged," Xander confirmed solemnly.
"Let me try again."
Two tries later, she finally captured the bunny—and handed it directly to Xander.
He blinked. "Wait, this is for me?"
She shrugged. "You look like you need a stuffed animal in your life."
He held it up. "I'll name him Business Bunny."
"Because he does shady mergers and acquisitions by day and cuddles by night."
They burst out laughing, loud enough that a few kids looked over. Erin didn't care. For a moment, she wasn't a spy, and he wasn't a prince in hiding. They were just two people in a stupidly lit arcade, collecting memories they shouldn't be allowed to keep.
They wandered from machine to machine—air hockey, skee-ball, a zombie shooting game Erin surprisingly excelled at. When she beat Xander at a racing game, she raised both arms in triumph.
"I want an award," she declared.
"You're holding him," he pointed at the plush bunny in her hand.
"I want two awards."
They made their way to a quieter corner where a photo booth stood—old, barely functional, but still lit.
"Dare you," Erin said, already sliding the curtain aside.
"You're ridiculous."
"You're scared."
"I'm not scared."
"You're scared of photographic evidence."
Xander scoffed and stepped in beside her.
They posed for four frames—one normal, one goofy, one where Erin tried to squish his face, and the last where their laughter died down and the camera caught something unspoken. Something that looked too close to tenderness.
The photos slid out with a click, and Erin tore it in half, handing him his copy. "You were blinking in the second one."
"You scratched my eye in the third."
"Still cute, though."
As they walked out of the booth, Xander's fingers brushed hers briefly. Erin didn't pull away.
"So," he said, watching her sidelong. "What next?"
Erin inhaled slowly. "I'll tell you along the way."
He didn't push. Just nodded and walked beside her again.
And the day didn't end. Not yet. Not with the world humming behind them and the silence between them no longer sharp but soft, stretched gently over things neither could name just yet.