But the glow of the dashboard reflects on the windows.
Beams from oncoming vehicles make it difficult to appreciate the stars in all their glory.
This is the furthest we’ve ever driven together at night.
And here in this dimly lit bubble, I’m finding it impossible not to kiss him.
To connect with him again after feeling that distance earlier.
Not while he’s driving on a pitch black road,I decide.
Keep your lips on this side of the console.
Damn that boy for being so divine.
???
On our left, we pass a sign that reads: Lake Moogerah.
Tyres slow on the quiet country route, turning down a narrow gravel lane.
It leads us to a small cabin.
The most idyllic holiday rental I can imagine.
Marco’s good at picking stuff like that.
I catch a brief glimpse before the headlights fade.
Black wooden exterior, small fire pit outdoors.
Lush trees frame the edge of the lane for privacy.
Peace and contentment wash over me, all heaviness falling from my shoulders.
Marco is poised on the edge of his seat as though he’s waiting for me to open a gift.
“Close your eyes,” he grins.
“They’re closed, I promise.”
“Okay, wait right there.”
It’s the first time I’ve heard him laugh since last night.
I hear the shuffle of feet on stones.
He darts around the side of the car to open my door.
“Take my hand,” he says. “But keep those eyes shut. No peeking.”
“No peeking,” I promise.
Something cosy and soft is being wrapped around my shoulders.
When I step out into the crisp night air, he holds my arm.
“It’s even more magical from the other side of the trees,” he tells me.
