The air outside smelled of sizzling oil and sweet roasted peanuts. Erin leaned forward in the passenger seat, her eyes catching on a colorful cluster of tents and stands just a few blocks down.
"Wait—what's that?"
Xander glanced where she pointed. "Looks like a street food festival."
She was already reaching for the door handle. "Let's stop."
"You sure?" he raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were picky about sanitation."
Erin shot him a look. "Are you seriously judging the hands that have made some of the best dumplings in your life?"
He scoffed. "That was one time."
She was already out of the car.
The street food festival was loud and chaotic in the best way. Laughter echoed between colorful stalls, sizzling pans sang under the sunlight, and spices danced on the breeze. Erin's eyes sparkled at every corner they turned, tugging Xander along by the hand with a gleeful kind of confidence that made him forget how exhausted life used to feel.
They stopped first at a vendor selling dumplings in the shape of animals. Erin insisted on a rabbit-shaped one and Xander raised an eyebrow.
"You're telling me you're about to eat something that cute?" he teased.
"It's too late for guilt," she said, biting into the dumpling's ear without hesitation. "Justice has been served."
"Remind me never to cross you."
She grinned, her lips shiny with oil, and offered him a dragon-shaped one. He took it with a dry look. "So I'm eating a fire-breather?"
"Fitting," she said, nudging his shoulder.
The banter rolled easily. Xander didn't even mind the crowd. Erin lit up with every bite, and he was content just watching her try everything from skewered squid to ice cream in a bread cone.
When they passed a vendor boasting "The Spiciest Noodles in the South," Erin gave him a look.
"Game?" she asked.
He scoffed. "You won't survive five seconds."
"I've had witchbrew tea before," she said under her breath, which made his brows twitch.
"What's that?"
She blinked. "Nothing. Just—super spicy. Let's go."
They each got a bowl and sat at a small table by the stall. The vendor handed them tissues with a knowing grin. "Don't say I didn't warn you."
Erin took her first bite with confidence. That lasted three seconds.
Her eyes widened. She slapped her chest. "Is it supposed to feel like my lungs are melting?"
Xander laughed so hard he choked on his own bite. "You look like you've seen the end of the world."
She reached across the table, grabbed his drink, and chugged it without asking. He didn't stop her.
By the time they were wiping their tears and laughing through the pain, they'd drawn a small amused crowd. Someone offered them a milkshake out of sympathy. Erin accepted it gratefully.
"I don't think I'll ever taste anything again," she mumbled, pressing the cup to her lips. "This might've been the dumbest idea I've ever had."
"I don't know," Xander said thoughtfully, "I once bought stocks in a holographic shoe company. They said it was 'the future of fashion.'"
Erin snorted. "What happened?"
"They lit up whenever I walked. In board meetings."
She laughed harder than she had all day, nearly spitting out her drink.
Later, they found a small booth with scrolls hanging like wind chimes. A sign above read: "Take a fortune, leave a secret."
Erin tilted her head. "Wanna try?"
Xander watched her curiously. "What if I don't have any secrets to leave?"
She gave him a look. "You? That's unlikely."
They both picked a scroll. Hers read: "Someone around you is pretending they're not falling in love." She froze.
Xander didn't notice. "Mine says: The truth you're avoiding is already known. Creepy."
She shoved her scroll in her bag quickly. "Let's leave a secret now."
She scribbled something down, folded it, and hung it on the board. Xander didn't peek. He simply jotted his and followed suit.
"What did you write?" she asked.
"Wouldn't be a secret if I told you."
"Touche."
Eventually, they ended up near a small rooftop café that had been set up just above the festival. The owner, an old man with a harmonica in his pocket and a flower behind his ear, offered them a spot with the best view in exchange for a story.
Erin looked at Xander. "You or me?"
"You."
She thought for a second, then launched into a wild tale about a girl who stole a prince's dog, only to find out the dog was actually the prince, cursed by an evil aunt. The man laughed so hard he waved them in without a second thought.
The view was stunning. Sunlight cast a golden glow over the festival below. People looked like colorful ants, moving with joy and purpose.
Xander leaned on the railing, beside her. "This might be my favorite part."
She nodded. "Mine too."
They stood in silence until a gust of wind swept her hair across her face. He reached out instinctively and tucked it behind her ear. She looked at him. He didn't drop his hand immediately. It lingered against her cheek for a moment too long.
Erin cleared her throat and stepped back slightly.
"Picture time," she said quickly, pulling out her phone.
They took silly selfies. One with her sticking out her tongue. One with him raising a brow. One where neither of them smiled, just stared at the lens like a moment too raw to name.
"Keep that one," he said quietly.
They sat again, sipping ginger tea the café owner brought up as thanks. A soft harmonica tune played in the background as the sky deepened in orange.
"You know," Xander said, "when we first met, I couldn't figure you out."
"And now?" she asked.
"I still can't," he admitted. "But I've stopped trying. It's better this way."
Erin gave him a soft smile. "You're not as difficult as you pretend to be."
"No?"
"No. You're just a guy who wants to be good but doesn't know how to do it without losing the walls he built."
That silenced him. He looked at her, really looked.
"You make it harder to keep them up," he said.
And though she didn't answer, her hand slowly reached out, her pinky brushing against his on the table.
For a moment, they just sat there. Two people playing with the idea of more but too full of secrets to speak it aloud.
And beneath the rooftops, the festival roared on.