𝐇𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐑𝐃 │ 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐗𝐎𝐍 ¹ [✔]

vijf.

HAZARD,
❨ v. matter ❩

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          DARYL HAD BEEN driving for how many hours, he did not know. They were silent, and that was easy. He could think when it was quiet and he had some sense that it was just him. But every so often he would look to the side and realise he wasn't. The girl made his thoughts feel insecure. She simply lay there, not doing a thing yet she still had that effect on him.

          He eventually stopped the car, pulling into a side road that wound through trees and over terential dirt. It seemed the rough conditions shook her awake, and her eyes flitted open from her curled position on the seat. Hands twitching, they rose to her eyes and pressed firmly.

          Marley let out a small squeak as her neck clicked and she rose upwards. Her back straightened, looking out the window, and not giving a glance to the man beside her.

          He tried to presume what she was thinking, but his perception let him down.

          Daryl watched the girl trace her fingertips over her forehead, feeling around the damaged area and gritting her teeth in discomfort. Her big, green eyes were wide and watering. Now, there was something he could perceive. All her fear and hurt, coming at her like a ton of bricks dropped upon her shoulders. All too late, and due to the effect of a dead man.

          She didn't say a thing, and didn't even whisper. Her words fell short as she peered through the glass of the window, clutching the edge of the door and viewing the amass of trees. She swallowed heavily, remembering.

          Marley glanced over her shoulder, to Daryl who did nothing but stare. She took her bottom lip between her teeth, nibbling like a mouse before asking him a question. "Do you-... um? Do you have any aspirin, or water— or something?" She seemed to beg in her weak tone, feverishly wrought and miniscule.

          The man coughed roughly before answering. "In the bag." She didn't know where said bag was so all she did was sit. Her eyes wandered to the back seat, where she would have thought to have woken up. But as she recollected what Jimmy had said about the kind Jess. The man who humorously assisted the disheveled, and lingerie riddled girl who appeared on his doorstep. It took meer seconds for him to decipher that this girl, Marley Van Allen as she had introduced, was no trouble.

          Or so he thought, and Marley doubted.

          (She doubted her value, and the vexation that came with her company, simultaneously.)