The last ray of sun?~

The evening park was filled with heat melting into the asphalt and the scent of linden blossom. The sun had almost set, casting watercolor splashes of pink and lilac across the sky, but the air was still sticky and viscous, like caramel.

"Knife! Knife, look!" The bulb, shining like a Christmas garland, jumped up, trying to reach the low branch of an old maple tree. Her sky-blue hair, pulled back into a high ponytail, swayed, revealing a pale neck with a birthmark. "I'm almost there!"

Knaif walked slightly behind her, his hands in the pockets of his black pants, looking at her with that special, weary tenderness he reserved only for her. His heavy-lidded gray eyes lazily followed her every movement. He was wearing a brown sweater, despite the heat—it made him feel calmer, as if in a soft cocoon.

“If you fall, I won’t carry you in my arms,” he said hoarsely, and there was not a drop of seriousness in his voice.

"You're lying!" Light Bulb laughed loudly and gracefully leaped down to stand right in front of him. Her white jeans were grass-stained at the knees, and her light blue top, visible through the mesh of her white sweater, was damp from the heat. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and a sunbeam glided across her heart-shaped hair clip. "You'd have carried me across the park if I'd asked you to."

She was right. He would have carried it. And not just through the park.

Knaif smiled faintly, and the movement touched the scar that began at his left temple and hid under the collar of his sweater. He didn't like talking about scars—Lampchka had only asked once, and then, seeing him cringe, she simply kissed him on the most prominent one, on his cheekbone, and said, "Your cards."

"Let's go," he muttered, nodding towards the fountain. "They sell ice cream there."

Lightbulb immediately grabbed his hand, intertwining her slender fingers with his. Her palm was hot and dry, his cool and slightly damp. Matching bracelets jingled on their wrists: neat leather bands with a tiny metal bulb on hers, and an equally tiny knife on his.

"With strawberries?" she asked.