Rahul – one of the members of Colt’s newfound army, a little Desi kid who can’t be more than twelve – chucks his gun Colt’s way. Colt snatches it, basically spamming the trigger, only for a weak spurt of green water to come out.

‘Nice going, Captain Personable.’ I grab some more purple from the bag of some passing aunty, and I don’t hesitate to smear it all across Colt’s cheek, completely unaware of how close we’re suddenly standing to each other until my hand comes away from his clean-shaven jaw. ‘And for the record, happy Holi.’

A smile spreads across his face, as spattered with colour as it is. He spins the little water gun on his index finger. ‘Happy it definitely is.’

I roll my eyes. He’s so damn tacky. Except he uses my moment of ignorance as an opportunity to steal some colour, because I feel the sprinkling of powder on my forehead, and my gaze snaps right to him. With a laugh, he opens his hand, revealing a massive mound of red powder. ‘I’m not gonna throw it. That’d be cheating.’

‘You don’t need to be chivalrous.’ Or does he? There’s something sweet about it: the patient look on his face, laced with longing. ‘Looks like anything goes here.’ I gesture to the full-out colour war going on around us.

Colt, even so, flicks his gaze to the rest of the red in his hand. ‘May I?’

Oh, honey. You’re a couple. Yeah, of course he may. For the narrative, I remind myself when I nod yes.

His fingers brush my cheek, leaving behind a trail of coloured powder, and my eyes find his light-hearted smile. It takes some effort to remind myself that this is for everyone else’s benefit.

‘Happy Holi, May,’ he whispers, stormy eyes glimmering. His touch traces tracks of red down the side of my neck before dropping off. Goosebumps spread all over my body at just that much. No matter how many times I force my mind to put the brakes on, instinct just has to have its way. Maybe all signs are trying to tell me something, but I can’t afford to read them.

I turn my attention to something I can actually control instead.

‘You’re easy to distract.’

Palming Colt’s tiny water gun, I trigger it straight at his chest, the barrel pressed right against him, and he looks down in alarm, and then amusement, as the green spreads across the fabric of his beige hoodie.

‘That’s actually cheating,’ he practically chokes out, clutching his heart all dramatically.

I raise an eyebrow. ‘Funny of you to say.’

‘Sure. But considering you’re the one distracting me, I think it’s fair.’