Scars and Burns

Chapter 32- Memories

Chapter 32- Memories

We have probably spent about 20 minutes in the car and I am already trying to not look at him.

Do you know how hard it is to not look at this kid? Fuck, he is sexy.

I stare out of my window just watching the trees and signs pass up by. I could hear him tapping along to the song over the radio and hum along quietly.

Before the song could finish he turned it down to a dim noise. I turn back in my seat, to face him.

He took his eyes off the road for a second to look at me. When he noticed that I was looking back, he smiled, placed his hand on my leg, and gave it a small squeeze. He left his hand on my lap, but drawing circles every once and a while.

I see him. All I see now is him. If he were to see the way I am looking at him now he would probably say that I am looking at him with adoration. Which I will admit, I probably am. Around him are blurred lines of different shades of green from the surroundings outside of the vehicle. All I see is him and his smile. And maybe the skull with roses for eyes on his bicep. His big bicep.

"What are thinking about?" I ask him.

"Just how beautiful you are," he state seriously.

"No. You cheesy shit. What are really thinking about?"

"How we ended up here?"

"What do you mean?" I question.

"Well, a couple of days ago you refused to talk to me, and now you are staring at me like that," he says with his very French pronunciation.

I snap out my state and watch the road. "I wasn't staring," I lie.

His laugh erupts through the entire car. Deep and rasp.

"Yes, you were," he laughs.

"No. I wasn't."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yeah, you were."

I move to turn the radio back up, to drown out the conversation. He, in return, turned it back down again.

"Other than dancing, what was your favourite thing to do when you were little?" Good, he is changing the topic of conversation.

"I wasn't staring," I argue to get the point across, even if I was staring.

"Are you going to answer my question or not?" he voice sound threatening, but the giggle falling from his smile indicates playful.

"Uh, it was probably playing dolls with Frizzy," I reply.

"Cooking with my Nanny, Vanessa. She would always let me lick the bowl when we were finished." I watched him smile at the memory.

But part of him is annoyed that is wasn't his mother. He replaces both hands on the wheel. His positive mood has disappeared as he presses his lips into a flat line. His knuckles become white from his grip tightening in annoyance.

"Hey, hey," I reach for his hand to calm him.

When I have his hand, I enclose our fingers together and rub my thumb over his.

"Now I get to lick the bowl, when you're finished with it," I suggest.

He smiles. I am not quite sure at what, though. Was it my lame attempt to make him forget about his childhood? Or was it the thought of us cooking together?

"I would like that," his smile grows when he looks over at me. I lean over to give his a quick kiss on his cheek for about the fifth time on this trip so far.

I sat back in my seat and placed my free hand over both of our already entwined ones.

*woo double update. I owed it to you guys!! What has everyone been up to? what re your plans for chrissy? vote. fan. comment. share. cheers happy reading x

-writers_dreams*