Before I can think it through, I drop the whisk. My hand grabs the front of his muscle shirt, pulling him toward me with more force than I meant to, but it's like I don't care. I need him close, and I need him now.
Noah's eyes widen for half a secon...
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The air smells like caramel apples and hay, the sound of laughter floating through the crisp breeze. I lift my camera, focusing on a little girl dressed like a witch, her hat too big for her head as she struggles to pick up a pumpkin twice her size. Her brother, in a Spiderman costume, zooms past her, pretending to shoot webs at the sky. I snap the picture just as she tumbles over into a pile of hay, giggling.
"Hold still, one more," I murmur, adjusting the angle and capturing the whole scene. Kids in their tiny costumes wander around the pumpkin patch, dragging their parents to the perfect pumpkin. It's almost too wholesome, but I can't help the smile pulling at my lips.
I tuck my camera under my arm and weave through the crowd toward Noah's stall. He's hunched over, painting some intricate butterfly design on a little girl's cheek. Her eyes are wide with wonder, and she stays still like she's been frozen in place.
"Hey," I call out when there's a break in the crowd. He glances up, a streak of blue paint on his cheek, the corner of his mouth twitching up when he sees me.
"Taking pictures of the chaos?" he asks, dabbing his brush on the girl's face carefully.
"You know it," I say, leaning against the table. "I need you to do my face next."
Noah raises an eyebrow. "I'm busy with my professional work here. Can't you see?"
I grin, flipping through the photos on my camera before pulling up the one I've been saving. "Nah, this is urgent," I say, turning the screen so he can see. It's a picture of Sukuna from Jujutsu Kaisen, his smirking face and black markings all over his skin.
Noah's eyes flick up to mine. "You're kidding, right?"
"Dead serious. I want to be cursed for the rest of the festival. Think you can handle that?"
Noah rolls his eyes but takes the challenge. "Sit your ass down," he says, pointing to an empty stool next to the booth. "Let me finish up with this butterfly first, then I'll turn you into the king of curses."
I drop onto the stool, watching him finish the last few details on the kid's face before she runs off, beaming. He grabs a fresh brush, turning to me with a look that's a mix of amusement and concentration.
"You better not move," he warns as he dips his brush into the black paint. "I need a steady canvas for this masterpiece."
"You're the one who has to get it right," I tease, tilting my head slightly to give him a better angle. His hand hovers near my cheek, and the closeness makes my pulse skip a beat.
Noah leans in, focusing hard on my face as he starts with the first markings. His breath is warm against my skin, and I can't help but mess with him.
"You know," I said, grinning, "if you wanted to get this close, you could've just said so."
