Hands On
The carnival continues for Matthew and Nikki...
Merry-go-round? Check.
Roller coaster? Check.
The gondola doors glide shut with a metallic sigh, and the two of them, Matthew and Nikki, are cocooned in their own little glass sphere, suspended above the carnival lights. The ferris wheel lurches once, steadies, then ascends with slow, dignified purpose. Below, neon blues and cherry-red streamers blur like wet brushstrokes on the night’s canvas.
Nikki’s knee brushes Matthew’s, silk skirt whispering against denim. They swap a glance that holds more voltage than the midway’s entire power grid. She arches a brow, Dare you?, and he answers with a half-smile that says Always.
The wheel climbs past the popcorn stand’s buttery halo, past the carousel’s gilt horses frozen mid-gallop. The cool air carries sugar floss and engine grease, perfuming the moment with childhood nostalgia and adult intent. Inside the gondola, the temperature is all their own making.
Nikki leans back on the narrow bench, crossing her legs deliberately so the slit of her skirt slides higher. Matthew clears his throat. He laces their fingers for a heartbeat… then lets their joined hands drift to her thigh.
His thumb strokes slow circles just above her stocking band. Cotton candy can’t melt this sweet; molten copper can’t run this hot. Nikki’s breath catches, lashes fluttering down before she meets his gaze again. The wheel pauses for passengers two carriages ahead, and suddenly they’re suspended in a hush where only their heartbeats count time.
