ೃ⁀➷ In the year 1994,
Maya Bennet travels to New York to attend a famous music festival, Woodstock. After stumbling into the wrong tent when searching for her lost boyfriend, she has an odd interaction with a handsome mysterious stranger. A year l...
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I stand frozen in front of him, captivated and confused by the presence of the man I never thought I'd see again. The man that also happens to look nothing like a Hank.
He cocks his dead down, his brows jumping up as he waits for me to speak, but I don't say a word. I'm too focused as his tattoos catch my attention the further he leans down, the roses in the place I remember them.
The snake however finds my eyes and the minute it does, it's staring me down like it's about to slither off of his neck and jump out at me.
"Talk about deja vu." He speaks up again in a laugh when I'm too nervous to break the silence on my own. "Do you have a habit of not talking when spoken to or does this only ever happen with me?"
Narrowing my eyes and parting my lips at the sound of his voice, I pinch them shut for a brief moment before snapping them open again. "Am I missing something or is this just a really weird coincidence." I fold my arms over my chest, rocking my head to the side as I stare up into his green eyes.
"Oh, so you do remember me? You worried me there for a second, love. I thought you forgot about me or something." He walks past me, reaching over and unlocking the driver's seat door by reaching through the window. "Been to any concerts recently?" He asks as I slide out of the way, watching him swing the car door open before he bends down and grabs onto Danny's toolbox.
"No, I haven't." I mumble under my breath, his head turning as he looks at me over his shoulder, smiling at my sudden shyness. "Wait. You didn't know who I was when I came into your tent that night, did you? I know your dad hasn't been here in a while but he seems close to Dean. I don't remember you saying anything about that though."
"That's because I didn't." He stands up straight, slamming the car door shut before he walks past me toward the truck as I follow close behind him. "I thought you were just another drunk girl that tripped over her feet when making her way back to her tent. I'm just as surprised as you are. Crazy coincidence, isn't it?"
He sets the toolbox down in the bed of the truck, spins around on his heels, and leans his back against the tailgate as he pulls a cigarette out from behind his ear. He focuses on his hands as he looks down, digging in his pockets until he pulls out another Zippo lighter and lights the tip of it.
How many of those does he have?
Pulling the stick down from his lips as the smoke slips from his mouth, he narrows his eyes and looks me up and down briefly as if he's trying to figure me out. "So what's your name, little lover? It's been almost a year since that night, I think it's about time I find out."
