Trapped In Your Bleeding Heart (Riff x Reader)

Chapter Thirty One - The Auto Shop

Before Riff even opened his door, I could smell the auto shop. It was familiar to me. I remembered occasionally getting hints of oil and sweat on Riff's skin, but this was a whole new level. It was nauseating. Invading my head through my nose and ears. "What's that smell?" I asked.

Riff circled around the car and opened my door, struggling to release my seatbelt before looking at me. All it would take was a lean forward for my lips to meet his. That knowledge killed me. "Burning tires, probably." He answered, leaning out of the vehicle once more.

What would Maria think when she learned that my attempt at stopping the rumble failed? I got out of the truck and brushed my dress down. Riff began walking towards the shop. "You can sit on that bench– unless you want to help me."

Riff gestured to a large garage with two entrances for cars, and another small door that led to some sort of office. Two small cars could fit into both the garage entrances easy, they were so wide. And there was gear everywhere. Tools I didn't recognize. Car parts splayed throughout the space. Men bustling about, rolling in and out from under vehicles.

Some wore denim blue jeans, and chore or bomber jackets. Others wore coveralls or overalls, and carhartt caps. But they all had two things in common. One, they all wore tough brown work boots with black laces. Two, they were all filthy. It was no wonder Riff was so commonly coated in soot and grunge.

Only then, after examining the tiresome colors and busy bodies of the auto shop, did I see the bench Riff wanted me to sit on. There was a tool box filled with metal instruments on it, and a darkened cloth that I assumed used to be white. I wanted to deadpan at Riff, raise an eyebrow, and ask, 'you want me to sit on that?' But I wasn't going to be rude. After all, I was there out of my own stubbornness.

"Dolly? You here?"

I met Riff's eyes. "I'm here. I've just," I gazed around the shop once more. One car pulled out of the garage, and another pulled in. "I've never been to an auto shop before. Are they all this big?"

"Only the ones in Uptown." Riff nodded to the bench. "Now sit. I have work to do."

Oh, I mourned the idea of touching my blue day dress on that bench. The ruffles would get soiled, and then there was no cleaning it. But despite my dread, I walked into the garage, taking slow steps towards the bench. Riff, having checked me off his list of chores, grabbed a bag from the ground and pulled a pair of tough cotton overalls out of it.

Meanwhile, I stood by the bench, unable to will my backside onto it. Boy, was I out of place. Eyes began to settle on me as I stood by the bench, my hands clasped behind me, so that no one could see my fingers as they nervously fiddled together. "You have a car?" One of the men asked.

He was gruff looking, and old. In his left hand was a wrench, and there was some sort of dirt or grease atop his bald head. "No..." My voice came out meek. "I'm with someone."

Did Riff want to associate with me? Would he be angry if I told the old man that I came with him?
"You're with someone?" The old man inspected the garage behind him, and then looked back to me, and inspected me, too. "Who stole you from Candyland?"

"I did." Riff's overalls were hanging loose at his hips, the straps not yet on his shoulders.

With a glance down at the bench, and then my dress, Riff understood the situation. He gripped the bottom of his long sleeve shirt and pulled it off, leaving only a tank top to defend him from the chilled weather. After pushing past both the old man and me, he set his sleeved shirt on the bench, and then continued putting on his overalls. A moment of hesitation hit me as I looked over Riff. "Won't you get cold?" I asked. "The wind is picking up."

Riff returned my motion, and looked over me. But instead of concern, his eyes were laced with something that heated my skin. "Sit." He said simply.

Without waiting another beat, I dropped onto the bench. The old man grimaced down to me. "Welcome to Dickie's Auto Repair. Hope you enjoy your stay, since this is a daycare now."

"What do you say we get some work done, Bill?" Riff put his hand on the old man's shoulder, and gave it a couple of forceful pats. "It might be better than listening to you talk."

Authors note: hi >:)