Mechanical Romance [GTA 3]

Placid

Opening in might is a little iffy. Text is most of the story. Person A uses quotes+italics Person B uses stars+italics. If italics are even in?
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Golden Trio Cafè - Liberty Mall *parking lot*
11:09 AM

"Was it nice for you?" Sparrow yawned.

Context is very important. Context is... Hearse ride. He has never driven a hearse before, until thirty minutes ago. It was a little exciting, though... He has something to ask about this vehicle. Has it been used for transporting corpses or was it purchased new? Claude winces his head at her question.

His main concern is coffee. Which happens to be five minutes away from being stale. He slides his trembling hands off the steering wheel and reaches for the cupholders to equip his drink. "I didn't think you'd enjoy it. I did. Seeing your hands tightly gripping the wheel, I wish that could've been me." The tense Eurasian whimpers quietly, her single eye rolls into the back of her head, and a small light tinge of red washes over her face.

Soon after that. Her phone starts buzzing. Looking down to grab the ice-cold device from between her thighs and laughs. "You're having difficulty telling if I just *censored* or if I'm cold and frustrated? Whoops, I didn't mean to do that..." She trails off clacking her teeth silently. "I'm not frustrated. That was merely a chill running up my spine..." The man cuts his eyes at his girlfriend. Suspecting a lie. She waves it off as nothing. "I'm serious. I have goosebumps, also... You're a little weird for thinking I'd *censored* so freely." Sparrow tapped her phone along her knuckles as she gritted her teeth.

"How's your espresso? It smells wonderful." I haven't had coffee in a long time. I'm drinking hot chocolate, coffee grosses me out after a certain time. Mostly due to my first few doses of it coming when I get congested, then I have to cough up a ton of bs. Claude swished his cup around, he smiles lightly, offering the drink to me.

"I don't think you'd wanna do that, not after last night..." I lick my lips, he shrugs it off. "Still? Don't you find that a little gross?" I do take care of dental hygiene, I just don't think I should be sharing anything orally with my partner. He's still pushing it. Is this his nonchalant way of telling me there's something wrong?

"It does smell pretty nice... Just one sip.." I swiped the muggy paper cup from his hand, swishing it around, slowly drawing the mouthpiece to my lips. I hurried and sipped it. "I don't know what's doing it, your daycare or that drink. My taste buds are being gangbanged as we speak..." I lose my filter very easily with a guilty mindset. I never had a sweet expresso before. It's nice, but my teeth are sensitive. Regardless of what I do, I can't help my tingles or the odd putting taste of salt that comes. Claude took back his drink and finished it. I dug around in my bra for something, I felt something poking me. To my surprise, there was a sharpie hiding in there. One of those really fat and thick ones.

I grabbed the empty cup and started drawing on it. My results are dicks. Small ones, big ones, veiny, hairy, infected. I didn't expect it to have so much space on it. I showed it to Claude, and his silent laughter made me blush, it's so sudden and you never see it coming.

"Now, your question about the hearse. What do you wanna know?" I face away from him, and wait. He sends me a skull emoji. "Death? Nobody's granny or gramps has been in here. For a psychopath, you sure are afraid of death." I tease. He nudges my shoulder. I turn to him. He doesn't look phased, why would- "Oh? Is it a sanitary thing? If I did buy this from a morgue, I'd bleach it six times."

He nods. "That was it? Anything else..." I watch closely as he thinks of another question. He reaches for his phone. I stare at mine, not breathing or moving at all. "Why's there a bed back there? Pfft... I haven't told you?" He answers "No?".