Eye of the Storm

Vittoria

The drive home was quiet, the kind of silence that hums with things left unspoken. On the outside, the city passed by in a blur, streetlights gleaming against the glass, the faraway hum of engines beneath.

He was frowning at nothing, his hand gripping the steering wheel, his other hand on my thigh. I could feel the storm roiling beneath his calm, the knot of tension in his shoulders, the