Olivier was probably jealous, Fleur thought. Even if Samuel and Simon were different people with different personality, they still shared the same face.
Virginie was more or less still attached. Fleur glanced at Olivier's cold, steely expression from the front passenger seat. With one hand on the wheel, face illuminated by the sunlight, his handsome features were quite surreal.
The traffic light in front of them was almost red, but Olivier only stepped on the pedal. The car roared forward.
Fleur stayed in silence.
She fumbled for the safety cushion in her seat, worried Olivier would speed on the road later. But he did not.
The car stopped at the next traffic light.
He did not look so tense anymore, no longer angry. Fleur carefully reached out and wound her hand around a pinky of his.
