The car cruised through the 600–meter tunnel, the passing lights outside the window casting fleeting shadows across Norman’s face.
In those brief moments of illumination, I saw the restraint etched in his expression, as well as the unwavering intensity in his gaze.
Before I could fully process the kiss, a sudden burst of daylight at the tunnel’s end made Norman pull back.
The tunnel came to an end.
“Sorry,” he murmured, his voice rough and low. “I didn’t scare you, did I?”
My ears burned as I shook my head awkwardly. “No… no, you didn’t.”
“I’ve never… been with anyone else before,” Norman admitted, sounding more nervous than I felt. “I guess I might be a little unpracticed.”
Feeling embarrassed, I blurted out, “Ash!”
Even from my seat, I could see the driver fighting back a grin, his lips twitching dangerously close to his ears.
Norman chuckled softly, leaning closer. “Violet, do you mind?”
I froze, unsure how to respond. Answering that question in front of someone else felt mortifying.
But when I caught the hopeful glimmer in his eyes, I couldn’t bring m question.
“No,” I whispered, so softly I could barely hear myself.
¡ to dodge the
Norman’s smile bloomed instantly, bright and warm, like spring sunlight breaking over a snow–covered mountainside.
“It’s all behind us now,” he said, gently brushing his fingers against my palm. ” Congratulations, Violet–you’re free again.”
“Thank you.” I couldn’t help feeling a little shy.
The atmosphere in the car felt awkward for a moment, but Norman deftly shifted the conversation. “Did you get what you needed?”
I pulled a tiny camera off the shattered succulent “Yep. They didn’t notice it at all.”
I had attached the camera to the plant back when I was rehearsing, to capture and review my movements. The memory card still held all the footage, from refining individual moves to stringing together entire sequences.
