apprehension / hemmings

(10) pressure

"Please," Luke sighed in my ear.

"No."

"Violet," He whined. "I'm not asking for much."

"This is peer pressure."

"No one's forcing you."

"But I feel pressured." I pushed his head off of me. He simply lied his head back on my shoulder.

"You won't die," with an eye roll, he looked up at me. "And I know that you want to do it, I can see it in your eyes. You're just trying to show off or something."

I smiled gently.

"You want to do it," once again, Luke implied in my ear for the 400th time. "C'mon."

Without a word, I stood myself up and snatched my car keys from his large hands.

Consistently, for the past half hour, he'd been begging me to take him to some indie drug store. It was over an hour away though, all the way in Charleston, which was a drive.

We always enjoyed our long drives. We always enjoyed leaving town. Luke and I lived in a small town outside of London, unknown of. Both of us resided in those soulless estates in the town laced with drugs and alcohol at every corner. While those could've been enjoyable, we did the difficult stuff.

For example, driving almost 2 hours into a badland to pick up what I could only imagine being £90 worth of Japanese candy, Killjoy comics, music and accessories.

"I've saved up about $110 for us to go," snatching the keys right out of my hands, he exited my house as if it was his own. I paused for a moment, only to watch his tall figure quickly rush back into the house and grab my hand.

Luke didn't move, though. He only kept my smaller hand in his. I felt my cheeks heat up quickly, and I'm sure the blush only darkened in color as embarrassment gave a rise to my rosy cheeks.

Luke made a sound, as if he was about to say something, but slowly curled his fingers with my own as he walked me out of the house.

"I read online that they've just got Pocky. They're these Japanese biscuit thingies."

I was on the long road only a few minutes later. Both Luke and I shouted Arctic Monkeys lyrics as their songs played on the car's speaker system. It was enjoyable, really.

There was a few moment where I could clearly be classified as socially independent, or with social anxiety. But, I couldn't really see that around Luke. There were awkward silences and occasional arguments, but I loved them.

I glanced at him before pulling one hand away from the wheel of the car to change the song that had started. "Tell me why I'm driving you an hour and a half into Charleston, again?"

"They've got Hesitant Alien stuff." With a small smile, Luke pointed his finger at my Hesitant Alien pin of Lola I'd pinned to the left pocket of my suede bag.

I remember getting it for a pound at a Hot Topic sale, when they'd gotten all of their Gerard Way merch in stock.

"I noticed it when I held your hand,"

I could instantly feel my cheeks beginning to heat up. He held my hand? He didn't just grab it to yank me outside? Um.

"Luke, if that was your way of holding someone's hand, you need a serious lesson in holding hands."

"Then, teach me."

He sat up from the position he'd been in previously (some intense slouching), and looked over at me again. Slowly, his lips curved into a cocky, yet, cute smile.