IGNITE

eighteen.

‹ 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐧 ›

It was 10:07 am.

Class had started seven minutes ago, and Piper was nowhere to be seen. My leg bounced nervously under the desk, my eyes occasionally flicking to the seat beside me, occupied by my backpack as it waited for a wide–eyed redhead to take its place.

The professor had been droning on and on about something I had no particular care to listen to—not until the seat beside me was filled, at least.

I couldn't get her out of my head, and not for lack of trying. My smoking habits had decreased significantly, my fingers twitching not for the rush of nicotine anymore, I realized, but for the feeling of her.

That night at the party played on an endless loop in my mind, impossible to forget, to move on from. Something about her entirely proving me wrong about who she was was intoxicating, and I found myself itching to get closer to her, to learn more about the things she hides from other people—to right my wrongs.

A flash of red caught my eye, and before I knew it, Piper was sliding into the seat beside me, her scent washing over me like a fucking tsunami.

She sent me a sheepish smile, pulling her things out of her bag. "Sorry, I got caught up with Mr. Beaurigard—"

"Pencil-dick,"

Piper rolled her eyes, though a smile tugged at her lips. "He wanted to speak with me more in depth about the piece I dropped off last night."

"Nothing I would enjoy hearing, I'm assuming?"

The redhead shot me a smile that seemed to say, correct, and I found myself staring at her for a second too long, before I shifted my gaze to the front of the room, the sound of the professor's voice bringing me back to reality.

"Alright," the professor continued, sending a pointed glance in our direction. "If we're done talking, shall we continue on?"

I couldn't help the smile that slipped onto my face.

The rest of the lecture passed agonizingly slow, my attention constantly drifting to the redhead beside me. It wasn't until she nudged my arm that I felt I had something to actually pay attention to, and she slipped a note onto my desk.

I shot the girl beside me a look of disbelief, my eyes quickly flicking to the folded piece of paper in front of me before meeting hers once again. "You're passing me notes?" I whispered, "What are we, seven?"

Piper let out a quiet laugh, returning her gaze to the front of the class as I reluctantly unfolded the note.

I'm starving, do you want to stop and get food before we go home?

Ignoring the way my stomach pathetically flipped at the invitation, I began writing on the paper, before slipping it onto her desk. Her smile faltered at my response.

No.

Piper simply nodded, tucking the paper into her pocket as she returned her gaze to the front of the room, resting her cheek on her hand. The guilt settled in almost instantly, and I let out a small sigh.

I quickly jotted down a message on the corner of my page, slipping it onto her desk before I could change my mind.

Fine. But I'm picking where.

The smile she shot me made my stomach clench.

Fucking. Shit.

✧

Despite Piper's new ability to remain on the back of my motorcycle for the entire duration of the ride, her grip never faltered, threatening to steal the air from my lungs as she clasped her hands against my chest.

We pulled into the small, diner parking lot, and Piper didn't let go, remaining in her spot until I tore her hands off of me. I watched for a long moment as she fiddled with her helmet strap, trying—and failing—desperately to pull it off.

"I'm going to have to teach you a few things," I muttered, stepping forward. I grabbed the base of her helmet, tilting her head up as I effortlessly unclasped the helmet and pulled it off of her head.

Red hair stuck out in all directions as she looked up at me, and I found myself reaching out to haphazardly smooth her hair before I could stop myself. "Thanks," she whispered, her cheeks flushed as she climbed off of my bike.

I didn't bother correcting her manners as I usually did, and led her inside of the small diner. Ordering myself a burger, I couldn't help but snicker as Piper began placing her order—a meal large enough for someone of my size.

Tapping my card, I did my best to ignore the surprise that seemed to swim in her wide eyes, before leading her to a table near the back, and sitting across from her.

A beat of silence passed before Piper finally spoke.

"You didn't have to pay for me," she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. "But, thank you."

"Whatever," I mumbled, shifting uncomfortably.

She grinned as the waitress set her milkshake down on the table. "You know," she started, licking the whipped cream off of her finger in a way that had my fist clenched around a salt shaker, "one of these days, I'm going to get you to say you're welcome."

"Not a chance."

"Maybe."

"Unlikely," I retorted, shooting her a mocking smile.

"So," Piper started, her emerald eyes glued on mine. "Why do you ride?"

I shrugged. "Why not?"

Rolling her eyes, Piper drained her milkshake. "I mean, did something get you into it? Because, I don't know. I can't say I would ever just think one day 'Yeah, riding a motorcycle sounds great'."

"My dad used to ride—he taught me how." The words felt like sandpaper on my tongue, and I took a sip of water. "It's a good escape."

"From what?"

I raised a brow at the question, the words falling flat. "Everything."

Piper watched me for a long moment, something genuine and soft swimming in her eyes. "Have you rode with your dad recently?"

"No." I said, the word falling flat. "He's—"

My words fell short as the waitress stopped at the end of our table, placing our trays in front of us, and smiling. "Enjoy," she said, before heading towards another table.

After Piper thanked her graciously, the waitress left us, and the redhead wasted no time digging into her food. I watched in amusement as she scarfed down her food, barely stopping for a breath between bites.

I couldn't help but notice the way the sunlight hit her hair, illuminating the soft curls. My fingers twitched, and I quickly shoved my hands under the table.

"You're staring." Her eyes met mine as she chewed.

"You have ketchup on your nose."

The redhead immediately swiped her nose, a blush coating her cheeks as she wiped the ketchup off of her finger and onto a napkin. "Oh,"

A beat passed before a soft smile appeared on her face, and a laugh escaped her lips. A genuine, heartfelt, laugh.

It was the most beautiful sound.

And suddenly, the thought of being around her seemed a hell of a lot more bearable.

a/n:
this chapter is so short I'm SORRY I'll do better I swear 🙄