Alexander pulled up in front of Elena's building a little earlier than planned, the BMW's engine idling low, its polished black paint catching the late-morning sun. He wasn't usually one for appearances, but today felt like it deserved the extra effort. The car looked good. He felt good—or at least, as good as he could while quietly overthinking.
He tapped the steering wheel lightly, checking his phone. No new messages, but she knew he was here. He leaned back in the seat, one arm draped lazily over the wheel, though his chest felt tighter than he let on.
Then the door to the building opened.
Elena stepped out, the sunlight catching in her hair like it had been placed there intentionally by some cosmic lighting crew. She was wearing a green knit top that matched her eyes so well it was almost distracting, and her pendant glinted softly against her collarbone.
Alexander swallowed once, casually unlocking the car.
She opened the passenger door and leaned in slightly. "You're early."
"Or maybe you're just late," he teased, though his voice came out quieter than he expected.
She laughed, shaking her head as she slid into the seat. "You're impossible."
"Good impossible, or bad impossible?" he asked, pulling away from the curb.
"I'll let you know after we find out if the festival snacks are worth this hype," she said, grinning.
The drive started like most of their drives did—easy silence, the soft hum of a playlist filling the space. He'd picked a mix of instrumentals and low-tempo tracks that somehow fit them both: mellow but alive.
"You've been working on this car again," Elena said, running her fingers along the stitching of the leather seat. "I can smell the cleaner. Or maybe that's just you trying to show off."
He smirked. "Maybe both."
She tilted her head, mock-innocent. "Does this one have a name, or do you save names for your favorite projects?"
"I don't name cars," Alexander said, glancing at her briefly.
"Wow, heartless," she said with a laugh. "So this is just the BMW, huh? No emotional attachment?"
"Oh, there's attachment," he said. "I just don't name things I respect too much to joke about."
She looked at him for a second longer than normal, and he felt her gaze even as he kept his eyes on the road. He didn't mind it. Not at all.
Halfway down the stretch of road to the outskirts of town, Elena broke the silence. "Thanks for coming with me today. I mean… I know you're not really a 'festival' type."
He gave her a quick sideways glance. "How do you know what type I am?"
"Because you always look like you'd rather be anywhere but in a crowd."
He chuckled softly. "Fair enough. You're not wrong."
"So why come?"
Alexander hesitated, fingers tightening on the steering wheel for a second. "Because you asked," he said simply.
Her expression softened, and for a moment, neither of them said anything. It wasn't awkward, though. It just was.
When they reached a long stretch of open road lined with fields, Elena leaned back in her seat, letting out a content sigh. "This car… it's ridiculous. Smooth as hell. You could probably get me to sit here all day without me noticing the time."
He smirked. "Careful, I might take you up on that."
"Oh no," she said, mock dramatic, "stranded with a car guy and unlimited snacks? My worst nightmare."
"Terrifying," he said, shaking his head. "I'll try not to subject you to too much automotive talk today."
"Good luck with that," she teased, "because I fully expect at least one fun fact about German engineering before this day is over."
As they approached the town outskirts, the music from the festival grew faintly audible in the distance. Elena sat up slightly, smiling as the colorful banners came into view, flapping in the breeze.
"Looks like we're here," Alexander said.
"Ready to eat your weight in food truck snacks?" she asked.
He smirked. "Depends on if you're planning on sharing."
She laughed, and he found himself smiling without realizing it.
As he pulled into the grassy parking area, he caught himself thinking about what he'd decided last night—that maybe today, he'd tell her something real. Something more than the surface-level pieces of himself he'd shown so far.
He didn't know when, or how, but he'd know the right moment when it came.
For now, just being next to her felt like enough.