𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘 -bob dylan

─ 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

yawns seemed to flutter from the meek threshold of her petal lips, only complementing her growing mood that the hanging stars forced on her whenever this tempo of time broke upon her. she wasn't complaining internally nor was she voicing her complaints, it was a natural reaction that she couldn't allow to come to a halt- or else the natural ecstasy of craving rest would end before she reached the peak.

his eyes caught sight of her through the corners where his pupils continuously found themselves lingering to during moments like these. pacified moments.

sentences caved around his mouth that soon was coated in nervousness from the constant licking of his lips, he kept fishing deeply for meager glances. and whenever he did, waves of satisfaction blew over him godly.

when he sensed the feeling of being cramped by the luxuriant selection of words, he once again blew down as a weary victim, finding shelter in the simplicity of common phrases, "you okay?"

and emerged a grin, the first one he had spotted in a mere two hours, yet he was still glad- or accomplished- that he had been able to pluck one out of her, "yeah, just, tired, i don't do so well with not following a sleep schedule."

inside the car a school of little giggles happened to blow through each mouth, floating desirably through the rolled down windows that welcomed honeyed breezes rather than a/c.

"grandma," his eyes teasingly scampered in a circle, only because he felt himself itching needily for that attention she showered him with, and currently he was praying to be soaked.

he got the attention he sought endlessly for, in the form of a whack where all he felt was pounding memories of being youthful, even though afterwards his bicep was met with a stinging sensation. even when she attempted to be gently she still packed a punch.

after her little whack, their voices came to a halt. hers was beginning to feel like the sahara and his lost its words. too bad there was no lost and found for a broken vocabulary.

over the hauling hours that passed them by, he kept a close  eye on the areas where her eyes flickered to. specifically the enormous billboards with few words, all lies that were only there to pick pocket with ease. yet on the ones she was peering at, he could make out the figures of all well built women, that he found attractive.

all their waists appeared to be cinched without the usage of top of the line trainers. or corsets. if they even still made those. his eyes thought they were being blessed by the drugstore version of a jayne mansfield, or perhaps a try hard brigitte bardot. he grinned at these sights, his pants subtly clenching around him naturally— as they did when he usually pictured women such as elizabeth taylor, sofia lauren and brigitte bardot —he only hoped ferosia wouldn't take notice. she was always one to bury her confidence in a six foot hole.

"you okay?"

he never intended to sound like a wounded vinyl. but he did. he didn't have any sisters. only a younger brother that he knew deep down he had lost close contact with. maybe someday he would send him a christmas card or something. maybe a big stack of dollar bills when he finally made his money.

"just fine," she paused herself, he noticed as he normally did, "am i okay looking?"

he chuckled and nodded vigorously, soon snickering as a growing grin of attraction landed onto his smile, "you're stunning, stop trying to joke with me sia."

no more words were said until the time had ticked to six o clock. stars suddenly appeared to taint the skies in gleaming linen hues. silk worries fled through his fingertips and numerous thoughts instantly became one disappearing moment of thinking.

excitedly, he grabbed her hand as he swerved to some place of flat land. a sign with the blood shade words that simply told them no, stood above the fields. he didn't care though, no one was around.

his car door flung open as he dragged her out, her constant warnings of cautiousness not making it through even one single ear. they were simply beats in the background that egged on his motions.

perhaps it was impulsive of him to bellyflop onto the prickling hair of mother nature. but it felt so destined within the moment that he flowed with his desires. the strands next to him became flattened at the pats of his hand- signaling the girl to join him. which she did, with reluctance dousing her steps.

it happened so quickly, he couldn't make out where it came from. he didn't understand how she just said what she said, her voice being a mono shade of only black.

"i'm not as pretty as those other girls."

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

a/n: i'm overly proud of how my writing came out in this one