It was madness. Simple and pure madness.
But they couldn't help it.
Every evening he'd spend near Magnolia, he'd come visit her. He'd knock — four times, it was their signal — on the windowpane and she'd open for him.
He'd kiss her longly and she'd kiss him back so passionately because god she missed him.
And sometimes, it'd degenerate and they'd end up in her bed and they knew that it would all catch them one day but they kept going and the passionate nights happened again and again—.
Until, one day, the test had been positive and their actions hadn't been without consequences anymore.
...
All of this was madness, but she'd make it work.
Somehow.