The festival was in full swing, with vendors calling out from their stalls and children racing between the legs of distracted adults. The scent of marshmallow and mulled wine hung heavy in the air, mingling with the crisp smell of the steamed frost. Above, the perimeter glass-enclosed walkways sparkled like strands of diamonds, their surfaces reflecting the thousands of lights strung between buildings.

Juniper pulled her coat tighter, more from habit than necessity – the city’s innovative heating system kept the plaza at a perfect temperature, the warmth rising from beneath her feet and the cold only swooping in from the breeze. Still, she felt a chill that had nothing to do with the weather, a lingering unease from the previous night’s storm and the moment she’d shared with Daniel on her balcony.

What am I doing? she wondered, bewildered by how potent these feelings had become, watching her breath form delicate clouds in the crisp air. Everything is so perishable, so fragile, and here I am, getting too close, too invested, when it could all slip away in an instant.