𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘 -bob dylan

─ 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘺

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

"i'm bored, we've been driving for over two hours. my inner thighs ache, i need to pee, i'm itchy and i am horny for some good music." looking back, she probably shouldn't have mentioned the troubling stiffness she felt in her inner thighs, but she couldn't suck in a said statement. 

a grin came to the surface of his desert lips, "horny for good music? now that's a new one, babe."

the word babe, was such a casual word for them. others, it was a word of great admiration and compassion for someone. for them, her and him, it was only a nickname. one she earned through the course of their rolling friendship. no significance waded in the name whatsoever. so, she rolled her eyes at him, only because she had absolutely nothing else to do. her eyes flickered to his watch and she saw how it was barely past noon, which only increased her growing anxiousness.

the car's hood gleamed with the blistering sun, so strongly to the point she had to squint helplessly to still grasp her sight. 

"do you have anything we can listen to? or better yet, could you sing!"

he shook his head at her words. his constant pride flowing down his throat in an exaggerated gulp. she only smirked at him, crinkling her nose only to earn a reaction that, if humanly possible, could send their car flying upwards. correction, his car flying upwards. 

the next time he turned around he was greeted by the glossed, enlarged eyes of a puppy, "trust me, babe, you wouldn't want to hear me sing."

his lips showcased a smile but his tone displayed the complete opposite. she noticed, she always did. the way he covered himself with a cloak of countless grins. sometimes it made her weary, how little confidence he possessed. especially in conversations that spun around him. parts of her felt hurt for the man, the empathy she showcased in a glass locked, cabinet within her heart  finally found the key- leaving the place its always known. she didn't stop it. 

her shrug didn't symbolize disinterest. rather she just didn't know how to speak with him, she never did under circumstances such as this one, "i'd like to hear you sing, i'm sure your voice is lovely."

once again, his head shook. he didn't need words to tell her no. he didn't need to ruin his, friendship, with her all because his tone slipped from his clutched palm. she looked back at him, the mirroring reflection of himself diluted in her dilated pupils. the soft ill-color warmed him, just a bit.

"please, bobby," he still let his eyes stray the dimming path of yellow markings, that was until he felt something brush along the top of his hands, the veins in his arms lacing with surprise as his eyes stared up to look at her, "do it for me." 

his fingers, now intertwined with hers, stroked each of her knuckles. part of him worried he was doing this wrong, as it had been some time since he had wandered into the world of hand holding- he wandered so far from it, it took him a while to get back to the path that once led him there.

he finally sighed, admitting the defeat. but what he expected didn't happen, his only clue being the red patches on her cheeks that glowed too much to be a rash.

"fine, what do you want to hear?"

she thought for a moment, skating her hand over his knuckles, smirking to herself at his little cough, "how about, some dean martin."

he shook his head. and soon hers fell. the feeling of his knuckles beneath her finger tip became only a memory- but it seems like everything now only disintegrated into a fine memory.

"oh c'mon now! you must know at least one song-"

"i know five of his songs-" he puffed out his chest, a smirk meeting her traveling eyes. 

her eyes became beacons of crystal light, "then sing one! please! i'll even be extra nice and not make you sing the italian, even though that's the sexiest part-"

his eyes glued her inward, creating an arising fixation. he controlled her in such a way, he never meant to. the sweltering sun distracted her usual perked attention away from her whereabouts, as when her eyes flicked around, she could see nothing. her turned head sensed no movements, no tampered air that shifted near her.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙