Chapter 90
Leaving My Home
Closing the door firmly, Dafa circled the vehicle, and slid into the driver's seat. The engine purred to life beneath us.
He shifted gears, his arm brushing mine.
"Seatbelt," he said, as his eyes fixed on the misty road ahead.
I fumbled for the clasp, my fingers cold and clumsy. Before I could find it, he leaned across me.
The world narrowed to the space between us.
I could smell him. It was warm, clean skin like sun on dry earth, layered with the faint, woody trace of sandalwood soap. Beneath it lingered the freshness of morning air and something untamed, like rain on wild grass. It was grounding. Steady. It stole the air from my lungs before I realized I'd stopped breathing.
His shoulder pressed lightly against mine as he reached for the belt. The fabric rasped softly, then came the definitive click as the buckle slid home. The sound felt impossibly loud in the quiet car.
He didn't pull away right away.
