•••••••••••••••••••••••Requests Open!••••••••••••••••••••••••
Will update upon receiving requests. Check chapter cleverly titled "⭐️Requests Open!⭐️" for more details (it's the 10th chapter!)
You can never have too many classic rock one shots, can y...
Muse: Italian Singer and Actress Milva Musician: American Musician and Lead Singer of Paul Revere & the Raiders, Mark Lindsay Time: Late Sixties to Early Seventies
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[Requested]
In a taxi with a stranger was a dreadful place to be. It's made even worse when that taxi in stuck in traffic, in the throws of a dreadful storm, in the middle of the freeway. What started as a practical idea to save two people some time and money, quickly became a sort of hostage situation.
Carla trained her eyes on the page to keep busy, her mind admittedly elsewhere as she twirled her pen between her fingers. There was a man seated just next to her; Mark was his name. They'd met at a newspaper stand in Sausalito. Carla was digging in her purse for coins while Mark hailed a taxi.
When she'd heard that he was headed to the same place as her, she quickly shuffled over to ask him if they could share a ride, wanting to lessen the traffic and avoid the approaching rainstorm. Ironically, their plans to evade the weather wound them up in the worst of it, but that was too cruel a reality for either of the two to acknowledge.
They sat in near compete silence, the soft guitar strumming from the radio the only sound to be faintly heard underneath the cars being pelted by a violent rain.
The man looked over at the woman, a curiosity twinkling in his cloudy eyes.
"So, you're going to San Fran?" He finally spoke, the first either of them had spoken since a bit of small talk about the horrid weather nearly a half hour ago.
"No, Idaho." The woman snarked, immediately feeling guilty for her snappy response. "Sorry. I'm just a bit tired."
The man smiled. "No, it's alright. The rain gets me out of sorts, as well."
They stayed in silence for a few moments, Mark looking over to whatever is was Carla's hands were busied with.
"Is that sudoku?" He asked chirpily.
"Mhm." She grinned, sending him a brief glance. "The best part of the paper, I say."
"Especially the San Fran Chronicle." The man jested, resulting in a quizzical tilt of Carla's head.
"What do you mean by that?" She asked, folding her paper closed as she turned her attention fully towards the brunet.
His excitement peaked — he'd gotten her attention. The man continued on with new found confidence, increasing his volume from a whisper.
"It's the worst paper!" He exclaimed, a smile engulfing his handsome features as he threw his hands up.
The red haired woman scoffed. "And how so?"
Lowering his gaze with a smirk, Mark leaned his shoulder against the seat as he performed a playfully patronizing cock of his head.
