The emotions between the two rose, gradually spreading and heating up in the air as Keane Lowell returned to the driver's seat.
In the rich atmosphere, Claire Prescott's lips curved into a light and graceful arc. She lowered her head to look at the flowers, a hint of sweetness seeping into her heart, washing away the day's fatigue.
The car restarted and set off.
Keane took her to the reserved restaurant.
Along the way, she held the flowers, only freeing one hand to hold his when she got out.
"Where did you go today?" Keane asked.
"I spent the day with my grandmother, visiting museums and parks. My legs feel like they're going to break." As she said her legs were breaking, she instinctively leaned closer to him.
Keane looked down at her, his eyes full of tender indulgence, "Do you want a massage later?"
Upon hearing this, Claire seemed a little doubtful of what she had heard, and asked him, "You'll massage me?"
"Who else if not me?"
