EPHEMERAL CHAINS

Nora hesitated before following Dave, her steps faltering with uncertainty. An invisible force drew her forward, yet guilt weighed her down—had she made a mistake? She should have gone straight to him instead of disrupting the moment between him and Francis. A quiet voice in her mind scolded her: Good etiquette dictates that you approach the one you seek without delay. But her emotions had betrayed her, and now she was left wondering if she had crossed an unspoken line.

Dave, without acknowledging her hesitation, strode ahead, his posture unreadable. His long strides were purposeful, as if he had already anticipated this moment, already made his decision. The sleek black sports car waiting for them was an extension of him—elegant, powerful, and unattainable.

With a quiet click, he unlocked the passenger door and pulled it open.

Nora's breath hitched.

It was the first time he had ever opened a door for her.

She swallowed hard and stepped inside, the rich leather seats cool beneath her fingertips. The faint scent of his cologne clung to the interior—a scent she had come to associate with longing, with the quiet ache of admiration from afar. The door shut beside her with a firm click, enclosing them in a space far too intimate.

Dave walked around the car, his movements fluid, controlled. As he settled into the driver's seat, he spared her no glance. Instead, he started the engine, the deep purr of the machine cutting through the silence.

The city lights stretched out ahead of them, glowing against the dark canvas of the night. The car glided smoothly onto the road, slipping into the pulse of the city.

Nora remained quiet, unsure of what to say—or if she should say anything at all. The air between them was thick, charged with something she couldn't name. She shifted slightly, then, in an attempt to ease her restlessness, reached for the window and rolled it down a fraction.

A cool breeze rushed in, brushing against her skin. She closed her eyes briefly, letting it calm the storm inside her.

And then, unexpectedly, Dave reached for the radio.

A soft static hummed before settling onto a familiar station—Music FM. The notes of a song drifted in, delicate yet striking.

Dandelions by Ruth B.

Maybe it's the way you say my name

Maybe it's the way you play your game

Nora's eyes widened slightly.

Her gaze flickered to Dave, who, for the first time, seemed caught off guard. His fingers tensed around the wheel, his jaw tightening.

The song—he hadn't expected this.

In a swift motion, he reached forward and switched it off.

But before he could retract his hand, Nora moved faster.

She turned it back on.

The song resumed, unbroken, as if nothing had happened.

A small, knowing smile touched her lips. She turned away, pretending to focus on the passing scenery, but her heart raced. The city outside blurred into streaks of gold and white, mirroring the emotions swirling inside her.

She had imagined moments like this—dreamt of them in quiet corners of her heart—but never had she thought it would feel this surreal, this fragile.

Dave said nothing, keeping his gaze fixed on the road. Yet, he didn't switch the song off again.

Instead, he let it play.

Let the lyrics speak the words he had never been able to say.

If only she understood.

He had liked her first.

Since they were six years old, he had watched her from afar, his feelings carefully hidden behind a wall of silence. When she confessed first, it had wounded his pride. His ego had demanded control—if he was to have her, it had to be on his terms.

So, he had ignored her.

Created distance.

Made her doubt.

Waited for her to give up.

But now, he saw it—she was close. Too close to walking away.

And that couldn't happen.

Because if she gave up, he would lose his chance.

And so, his chase would begin.

But it's so good, I've never known anybody like you

But it's so good, I've never dreamed of nobody like you

Nora let the melody wash over her, a bittersweet longing rising in her chest.

If only this song were a message. If only these words were meant for her.

But that was just her delusion, wasn't it?

She sighed softly, shaking her head at herself.

I'm in a field of dandelions

Wishing on every one that you'd be mine, mine

A foolish dream.

Yet, she couldn't help it—her lips curled into a soft smile.

The car took a gentle turn, leaving the main road and entering a private estate.

Nora's breath caught.

Towering gates stood before them, and as they slid open, a breathtaking landscape unfolded beyond. Lush gardens stretched out on either side, illuminated by the soft glow of warm lanterns. A pathway lined with delicate flowers wove through the estate, leading to a grand home nestled beneath the night sky.

She was mesmerized.

For a moment, she forgot herself, leaning closer to the window as her eyes took in the beauty of the surroundings. It was like something out of a novel—a scene plucked from the fantasies she had long since written in her mind.

She longed to step outside, to wander through the garden, to take pictures and immortalize the moment. This place—this dreamlike scenery—felt like the backdrop of a story waiting to be told.

But she didn't say a word.

She didn't want to be the first to break the silence.

Ahead of them, the road stretched into the estate, vast and full of unspoken promises.

Dave stole a glance at her.

She was smiling.

The soft glow of the streetlights illuminated her features, and for a moment, he found himself mesmerized. She looked… peaceful. Happy.

And for reasons he couldn't explain, that sight made something tighten inside his chest.

His grip on the wheel firmed, but his heart—his guarded, reluctant heart—was quietly celebrating.

He had brought her here.

And she liked it.

Still, his face remained stoic, untouched by the emotions stirring beneath.

One day, he thought.

One day, she would understand.