The Second Button tradition has been around since the '60s. It's a popular Japanese tradition that involves the man giving his second button to the woman he adores. A similar tradition has been around in the lives of Wolf Winchester, Chris Lancaster...
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"Skylar, you son of a—-"
"Finish that sentence, Harry, I dare you."
"Guys, calm down." I stepped in between them before they killed each other. Harry's jaw clenched and he was frequently clenching and unclenching his fists. He looked down at me with eyes darker than the deepest shade of brown. When he noticed that panicked look on my face, his expression softened and he sighed.
"I told you not to let her take it, munchkin," He said, his voice softer than his usual tone. It was a little shaky like he had been going through a panic attack five minutes ago. "I thought you promised."
"I did, Harry, I know—"
"How did you even know?" Skylar's question cut me off. Harry's gaze shifted from me to her and it hardened.
"My car was missing from the garage and only yours was around. It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together, especially when I knew you had a race tonight."
Skylar snickered. "I assume your heart was in your mouth when you found it missing?"
"Skylar, it really isn't funny." Harry glared at her. "You know how much I love—"
"I know," She cut him off.
"Then why?"
"I don't have time for this right now," she said. "I have to go."
"No, you don't," Harry shot. "You're not taking my car."
"I never asked." With that, she slid in the driver's seat and drove into the venue, leaving us behind.
There was a moment's silence before I heard Harry's sigh. He rubbed his temple.
"Harry, you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm—" He stopped himself when he noticed I wasn't buying his excuses. He sighed again. "No, I'm not. Do you have any idea what went through me when I saw my car wasn't there?"
"Don't you think you have an unhealthy obsession with your car?" I gently asked, knowing quite well that my words would manage to sting him no matter how much I tried not to make it sting. "I mean, it's just a car. So what, if Skylar takes it to her racing tournament? You can take hers, like you drove hers tonight to catch us before we left."
"It's not an obsession," He defended himself. His voice was softer than usual. "I love that car to death. It's been with me since my sixteenth birthday. It...It was one of the few things that was just mine, you know? Mine. No one else gets to have it, but me. I take care of it like it's my own child."
He paused, looking at a distance. "Skylar's a reckless driver. She might be damn good at racing, but I worry..."
