𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐎 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐄 ↝ 𝘢. 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘳

2 | 𝙵𝙸𝚁𝚂𝚃 𝙳𝙰𝚃𝙴... 𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙳𝙰 𝙽𝙴𝚁𝚅𝙾𝚄𝚂

"𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐈𝐆 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀?" I asked Alex as I sat across from him in a tiny booth at a small diner downtown.

He was playing with his spoon in our shared banana split, "Ok, you've got me, love. I needed an excuse to hang out with you longer," he smirked, looking up at me.

"I'm on a diet, actually, Al."

"You don't need a diet. You're the hottest babe I've ever met."

"Tell me more," I teased.

"What? The compliments? Let's see, you're the most breathtaking babe," he leaned forward.

I leaned forward at him, feeling his breath on my skin as I bit my lower lip. "I got the brain, too."

"Viv, you know how much I want to kiss you right now," he trailed his finger down to my cheekbone to my jaw, then to my chin.

"Now you're pushing it," we both laughed.

It's funny if I go back hours before, remembering how I was annoyed by him. But now, look at me. I teased back at his action.

"Tell me about your study," he requested.

"My parents let me choose my degree, so I chose architecture following my dad's steps."

"Smart girl," he winked. "Why architecture? You love to read and your fashion taste is wonderful, why not English or Fashion Design?"

"It gives me the freedom to use the other creative part of my brain," I said, following the conversation in that direction.

"What's your favorite architecture style?" he asked, holding his spoon.

"Art deco," I mumbled, swallowing my full bite of ice cream. "This ice cream is really good."

"I'm glad you like it," he smiled in amusement.

"How do you know this place?"

"From a friend."

This diner is a super retro type of place. Just at first glance, I was intrigued. The building had a small parking lot, with a huge, lit-up sign that read Oasis Diner.

Oasis was insane. It was so vintage that it looked like it was ripped right out of a comic book. From the black and white checkered floors to the retro stools, this diner had everything.

Looking at what Alex wore, a pair of black jeans with a white t-shirt. He looks like he was coming straight out of the 50s, with his black leather jacket and his quiff that sat up on his forehead.

"Love, I know many other ways to show you a great time," he picked up my hand off the table, placing a kiss on the back of it.

🝮

Once we finished our banana split, we both got up as Alex paid for our order, not letting me pay for a single dime. We both walked out of the diner to the parking lot, where he parked his bike.

"If you want to walk home, I can drive you there-"

"Home?" I stopped behind him, "we're just getting started, Al."

I gave him a smirk, started to walk to his bike, and gave him his helmet. Once he makes sure both of us wearing a helmet, he hopped in first, taking my hand, luckily I'm not wearing a skirt or mini dress it would probably be hitched when I sat on his bike.

As he started his engine, I closed my arms around his strong torso. I brought my lips to his ear, "Do you remember that night when you gave me your cig?"

"You almost said no, yeah?" he smirked.

"Yeah," I nodded. "It's because I do not like American Spirit."

"Why?" he doesn't finish his question, but I already know what he was going to ask.

"It burns so long," I stated.

I hear him chuckle, "What do you like?"

"Marlboro, especially red."

"I know you're Marlboro type-a-girl," his voice muffled by the wind. "Someone said, never trust a girl who smokes Marlboro reds."

I smack his back, but quickly, I wrap around him once again. I keep my eyes closed as we swerve out onto the main road. The wind blows against our faces as we ride to a clearing near the sea.

A small smile was drawn on my face. His motorbike gives me more of a thrill than the alcohol does. My stomach flips, and my heart drums in my chest, knowing that I could fall any minute.

We ride along the cliff side, and I squeal in his ear at the long drop into the sea. I laugh, but the sound is taken over by the wind and the motorbike. I look to be in a better mood than before, so he has succeeded already.

🝮

When we arrive at the clearing, I notice how the sky is much clearer here. I immediately stepped off the motorbike, took off the helmet, and smiled up at the sky. My face is alight with excitement, but he also has a peaceful look on his face. As if he can finally relax.

Silently, we wander over to the middle of the clearing. He takes off his jacket and places it on the ground for me to lie on. We lie against the grass, our arms inches away from touching, and we look up.

"It is so quiet here," I whisper. My loose hair is fanned out against the grass, but I don't seem to care that it is getting dirty.

"I found this place a few weeks ago," he mutters to me. I tilt my head to look at him. "When things get too loud, I come out here."

His hair was shades of brunette, his eyes were a light chocolate color, he moved slowly as honey, his jaw was razor sharp, and his strong arms flexed.

"What if a serial killer comes out from that rock?" I teased, pointing out a big rock over there, and I smirked.

"I'm sure there isn't, love."

The sun began to sink, gazing up at the sky tainted with beautiful orange, pink, and yellow with the occasional deep purple and light blue.

When the sun disappeared from sight, we lay ourselves down, and I watched Alex pull out something from his pocket. A pack of Marlboro red. He hands it to me, and I gladly accept it, and he brought the lighter to me.

We all know the dangers of smoking cigarettes these days, and we don’t condone it. There's a thing called cigarette psychology. I look at the way he holds his cigarette. He holds it between his index and middle finger. It claims that someone who holds a cigarette between those two fingers tends to be an intellectual, a very brainy type of guy, and a contemplative character.

After we finished our cigarette, Alex drove me home. I rested my head on his shoulder on the way ride home, shutting my eyes as I felt the cold wind on my face.