Touchonthetrain ⚡ High Speed

For three heartbeats, the world narrowed to that point of contact: palm against palm, the slight roughness of his skin, the way his thumb instinctively pressed against her knuckles. Then the train righted itself. A collective sigh rippled through the carriage.

Emma smiled. “I’ll be there.”

“Same time tomorrow?” he asked.

Emma looked up. He was closer than she’d ever seen him, his glasses slightly askew. “You okay?” he asked. His voice was lower than she’d imagined. touchonthetrain

They had been commuting together for eight months without a single word. She knew the way he drank his coffee—black, two careful sips before setting the cup down. He knew the way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear when she reached a tense chapter. But they were strangers, bound by unspoken rules of English train etiquette. For three heartbeats, the world narrowed to that