We approach the row of stalls where ice cream packages glimmer in one of the freezers, and next to it, a cotton candy machine is already surrounded by kids. The air here is thicker, sweeter, saturated with the scent of powdered sugar and fruit essences. The cloying smell tickles my nostrils, stirring childhood memories of fairs and holidays when happiness was as simple as a handful of sweets on a stick.
After buying two ice creams and a cup of cotton candy, we settle on a bench under the shade of a sprawling tree. The warm evening breeze plays with her hair, sticking a few strands to her flushed cheeks. Katrin takes a bite of the cotton candy, leaving pink sugar threads on her lips like traces of a sweet fairy's kiss. She giggles, licking the sugar from the corner of her mouth, oblivious to how this tiny detail makes her even more enchanting.
She looks utterly happy—her cheeks rosy, her eyes sparkling, every movement radiating unrestrained joy. Her gaze is light, free of worry, unburdened by memories. Just here and now—in this moment where nothing exists except the two of us.
I haven't seen her this… free in so long. No anxiety, no glancing back at the past, no fear that someone might steal this smile from her. And that warmth settles in my chest, quiet and comforting.
But somewhere at the edge of my mind, unease stirs.
Ivan.
His image flares in my thoughts like a cold, ominous stain, sending an unpleasant shiver down my spine. A dark shadow capable of shattering this fragile happiness in an instant. He could appear at any moment—silently, like a predator, sinking his claws into what matters most.
I forcefully push the thought away, gritting my teeth. No, not today. If I start worrying—he's already won. Because fear is his weapon, and I'm not about to give him that power.
The important thing is that he won't touch Katrin. As for the rest… I'll handle it.
While I'm lost in thought, Katrin suddenly presses her ice cream against my face. The cold touch makes me flinch, and when I blink, I find a sticky, sweet smear on my nose and cheek.
Rebel Girl bursts out laughing—bright, infectious, covering her mouth with her hand, but her eyes gleam with mischief. There's nothing but pure, childlike joy in that laugh, and I suddenly realize I could listen to it forever. In these seconds, the entire world shrinks down to her face, her laughter, this effortless sincerity that fills the air.
"Surprise!" she giggles, pleased with her prank.
And in that moment, nothing else matters. All the noise inside me quiets, leaving only this lightness, this carefree happiness.
"Hey!" I feign indignation, but my voice already betrays a laugh. It's useless—I can't hide my smile.
She just laughs in response—clear, unrestrained, like raindrops against glass.
"Sorry, you looked so lost in thought, I had to cheer you up."
Her eyes sparkle with mischief, her lips stretching into such a sweet smile that I can't help but mirror it. I raise my hand to wipe the sticky mess away, but she suddenly catches my wrist.
"Wait, let me."
Her voice softens, warmer, like a gentle heat that wraps around you without smothering. She leans in closer—so close I can feel her breath on my skin, light and slightly uneven, as if she, too, is losing control. Her fingers brush my cheek, and then…
Rebel Girl starts licking the ice cream off.
Slowly. Deliberately drawing it out, as if every second is part of some forbidden ritual we can't interrupt.
Her lips are warm and slightly damp, every flick of her tongue against my skin leaving trails of something electric, unexplainable. Goosebumps race down my spine, but I can't move. We're alone—this bench under the dim glow of string lights feels like our own little world, where no one else exists. Time blurs everything except her and me.
When she finishes, she doesn't pull away. Instead, she climbs onto my lap. But not like usual—not just settling sideways.
No.
Rebel Girl straddles me the way she loves to in bed—confidently, unashamed, as if she doesn't have a single doubt. In this position, she isn't just a woman but something powerful and dominant, making my heart pound harder. Every movement is sure, commanding, igniting something deep inside me I haven't felt in so long. Her fingers tangle in my hair, toying with the strands but not leaning in for a kiss—she knows exactly how to keep me on the edge.
I grip her waist, feeling the thin fabric of her clothes and the warm, living body beneath. It's like fire—spreading, nearly consuming, yet impossible to resist.
And then she asks that question.
"Do you like me… or just my body?"
I freeze.
My fingers stiffen involuntarily, and my gaze drowns in her eyes—so deep, so… unreadable at this moment. The air around us feels thick, heavy, and time stretches in anticipation of my answer.
What is she plotting?
"You," I reply without hesitation, though my voice comes out quieter than usual. "I like who you are. Your inner world. How strong and independent you are. Every day, you surprise me and make me admire you."
I see her pupils dilate slightly, her lips tremble, and her face takes on an expression as if she hadn't expected those words. Something delicate, almost invisible yet real, seems to form between us.
"For example, yesterday, I was amazed by your intellect all over again. And today—how skillfully you drove. I could never do that."
The girl lowers her eyes, but I catch the faint blush on her cheeks, the slight tension in her shoulders—a clear sign my words strike deeper than she anticipates.
"I'm glad you enjoy spending time with me."
Her voice is softer, shyer than usual, as if she hasn't expected such an open confession. But there's something sincere, touching in it.
I can't stop.
"I want you. And yes, it's true—I like your body. But only because it's you. Even at the club, when we watched that girl by the pole… it made me uncomfortable. But the second I imagined you—I got hard."
Her breathing quickens. She tenses but doesn't pull away; instead, her gaze grows more intense, charged with some hidden struggle, a heightened reaction.
"Or when that idiot kissed me… I didn't want her. I only want to kiss you."
Katrin freezes for a second, weighing my words. Then her eyes darken, and she tilts her head slightly, as if all of this suddenly becomes something important, something raw—something that might have shifted something inside her.
And then…
"Thank you for your honesty."
Her voice is quiet, but there's gratitude in it, as if she's ready to accept my feelings—not reject them, but understand.
Her lips brush against mine—light, quick, sweet with the lingering taste of ice cream. Even that fleeting touch sends warmth flooding through me, as if every nerve, every cell suddenly awakens to her closeness. Everything else fades—only this moment remains, filled with a quiet yet powerful emotion.
Katrin's soft laughter mingles with the rustling leaves above us as she leans back slightly, still perched on my lap, to look into my eyes. Her gaze holds quiet joy, understanding, and something deeper—something that leaves me feeling vulnerable yet happier than ever.
And then she doesn't pull away.
She stays so close our breaths mingle, as if the world around us doesn't exist. I feel her soft exhales, her warmth, as if her soul is right beside mine in every fragment of this moment.
And in her eyes, I read what isn't spoken aloud.
"Why ask that? Do you doubt me? Doubt my feelings?" My voice carries a hint of hurt, but more than anything—a need to understand. I can't shake the feeling that this moment divides us, even if she doesn't mean it to. I instantly remember that conversation in the café.
Katrin shakes her head, her silky hair sliding over her shoulders—a reminder of how much elegance hides in her simplest gestures.
"No, I don't doubt you. It's just… remembering our first dance… it feels like you liked my body first."
Her words are warm, like a summer breeze, but there's a faint note of uncertainty. As if, despite knowing there's more between us, she can't erase that first impression—her body and its effect.
A playful challenge flickers in her eyes, but I know—there's more beneath the question. Maybe a sliver of insecurity she carefully masks behind boldness.
I pull her closer, feeling her warmth through the thin fabric of her clothes. We're so near I can trace every breath, every shift of her body.
"First, I was impressed when you aced those tests in half an hour. The dance came later."
Her eyebrows shoot up, and her lips stretch into a wide grin—full of genuine delight and mischief.
"Ah, so that's how it was!"
We both laugh, the sound so light, so carefree, it feels like time stops. Memories of our early days flash vividly: her smirks, my surprise, the first sparks between us when words felt unnecessary and everything important lived in our glances.
Yes, so much has changed since then.
Suddenly, Katrin springs from my lap, restless energy buzzing through her. She grabs my hand, fingers squeezing tight, radiating impatience and an unquenchable thirst for adventure.
"Come on, our date isn't over yet!"
Her eyes gleam like twin stars trapped in the night sky, brimming with hope and boundless joy.
"After the roller coasters, I want to ride the Ferris wheel with you."
Her voice holds such certainty, such determination to stretch this evening longer, that I can't help but smile. Her persistence is contagious.
"Whatever you say, Rebel."
She tugs me forward, and we dissolve back into the carnival's noise, the flickering lights, this magical world where only the two of us exist. Everything else is just background—we don't need to look at it. All we want is right here, in this moment.
Wherever she leads, I follow. Because the only thing that matters is that we're together. And right now, I know—this is exactly what I've always been searching for.