The next day, they boarded a bus, joined by teachers and student representatives from their sophomore and junior classes. The school had arranged this organized trip, insisting everyone travel together.

Hannah settled into a seat by the window at the back, and naturally, Jack sat beside her.

Having shared dinner at his house the previous evening, they wordlessly glossed over any awkward moments that transpired, returning to the classroom with time to spare before the next lesson.

While Jack had no idea, Hannah was already contemplating frequenting his home more often. She gazed out the window at the passing street scenes, her mind adrift yet unfailingly picturesque.

Lately, a change was brewing between them, a closeness that had subtly tightened the gap separating their worlds.

The journey was long, inducing a drowsy stupor as the chatter within the bus dwindled to a low murmur. Hannah grew drowsy, leaning against Jack’s shoulder as she drifted into a feigned slumber. Oblivious to the world, she nuzzled closer, adjusting her head comfortably against him. Jack remained motionless, his body tense and his neck prickling under her soft tresses.

For several minutes they remained like that, until Hannah shifted closer still, angling her head a fraction as her nose brushed against the skin of his neck. Her gentle breathing teased him, provoking a heightened awareness that bordered on discomfort. Finally, she spoke, near his ear, her voice sweet and languid. “Are you tired?”

Jack, aware of the resting figures around them, responded huskily, “Not really.”

“Oh.” Hannah’s reply was light as she encircled his neck with her right arm, fingers tracing to his Adam’s apple, caressing it softly. “Hearing you like this feels different. It’s nice.”

His heartbeat quickened, words eluding him, so he merely managed a murmur, “Mhm.”

“Jack,” she said, seemingly random in her inquiry, “do you know how to catch your breath?”

Jack blinked, confused. “Huh?”

“Like this,” Hannah whispered, realigning herself so her voice floated intimately to his ear, delivering a soft, suggestive sigh, “Mmmm~”

The suddenness of her action left Jack struggling to maintain composure.

He clenched his fists, answering with a strained voice, “I’m not sure.”

“Oh really?”

Taking advantage of their secluded seat at the back, Hannah nestled once more against his shoulder, seeking solace in his proximity.

In spite of the tension she stirred within him, Jack relished her presence, the simple comfort of their closeness. Still, he knew she thrived on pushing boundaries until he unraveled. When her hand trailed onto his leg, he felt his sanity teetering on the brink.

A clean fragrance clung to him, perhaps laundry detergent or soap—a scent softer and more inviting than his later inclination for cigarettes. Though he refrained from smoking around her, she could catch faint whispers of tobacco when close enough, an alluring aroma in its way.

Yet now, sitting beside this serene Jack, his fragrance was pure, devoid of threat, a breeze of calm. Hannah inhaled his cleansing scent, thoughts wandering to whether his smell would alter, tinged with sweat or even traces of her.

Her fingers teased the length of his thigh, lingering provocatively until he finally seized her hand.

Jack’s voice emerged, hoarse and nearly pleading, “Stop it.”

“Nope,” Hannah teased, her hand inching provocatively higher. “You said you wouldn’t try to stop me…”