The drive was quiet, the hum of the engine steady beneath the night. For once, there were no sharp words, no quarrels. The silence between them was different now, not heavy, not hostile, but soft, almost careful.
Kurt’s hands rested firm on the wheel, his storm‑dark eyes flicking toward Mimi in the passenger seat. She sat composed, her coat draped neatly, her gaze turned to the window. The spark lingered in the hush, undeniable, alive.
Then Mimi's hand shifted, brushing against the console, and Kurt moved at the same time, reaching for the gear. Skin met skin. A touch, accidental, fleeting... but it held for a heartbeat too long.
Mimi froze, breath catching, her eyes flicking toward him. Then, almost too quickly, she withdrew, pulling her hand back as if burned. “Sorry... I didn’t
