The car glides through the darkness like a blade through silk, the city lights bleeding into streaks of gold and amber along the windows. The engine hums low and steady beneath us—a quiet, mechanical heartbeat filling the space between words left unspoken.
I sit behind the wheel, my hands resting loosely on the steering wheel, every movement calm and deliberate. My face is a mask of blank indifference, carefully constructed to hide everything simmering beneath it.
Beside me, Silas sits in the passenger seat, his presence a quiet weight at the edge of my awareness. A silence stretches between us—one I created deliberately. I have no intention of breaking it.
The bouquet he brought for me rests on the back seat, fresh roses filling the car with their sweet fragrance. The scent lingers in the enclosed space, soft and persistent, curling through every quiet breath.
I catch it with every inhale.
