As Lariette cycled the bike, Ruediger sat behind with his long legs awkwardly bent. He grasped the side of his denim pants, unsure of where to put them.
The breeze was cooler at this time of the night, gently tousling Lariette's hair. Ruediger darted his gaze away several times, a hint of a blush spread on his cheeks.
Never once did Ruediger imagine he would be carried by Lariette—by the bicycle.
They had left the festival ground five minutes ago, halfway back to the cottage. The liveliness of the summer festival had long faded behind them, replaced by the rustling leaves and chirping of crickets.
Ruediger parted his lips, wanting to say something to break the silence, "You're good, Lettie."
Lariette raised her brows, slightly surprised. Without glancing behind her shoulder, she asked, "What do you mean?"
"It's not easy to carry me," Ruediger replied, his voice having a hint of laughter, "I'm so heavy. You're surprisingly stable."
