Road Trip. | ✓ | [ e d i t i n g ]

Chapter Seven;;

It was raining.

No, it was pouring.

A constellation of cold little watter droplets screened over the windows, the windshield wipers moving furiously against the tiny waves. It was like a zombie attack, and the windshield wipers were the survivors. 

And they were losing. 

A sigh slipped past Nick's lips, " we have to pull over." 

" What?" I asked, arching a brow.

" We have to pull over." 

I groaned, " Why. It's just a little rain."

Nick nodded, " uh huh, just a little bit of rain is completely killing my wind shield wipers. You're right angel, I should never doubt you."

And as if on cue,  a bolt of lightning spiderwebbed it's way to the ground, hitting it with such a force, I could feel the boom of thunder pulse through me, " alright, pull the van over."

Once were on a considerably stable portion of the road, Nick turned off the majority of the power, so we could avoid our chances of getting electicuted. That, and if the van was struck, and killed all the power while it was on, we'd lose a lot. 

I tried to argue that we had rubber wheels, and that it would be much worse if we lit the van on fire. waving me off, Nick placed candles around the van, lighting them with his grandfathers lighter. I watched him flick it open, and light another one. 

I muttered a string of unclassy words, that caused him to chuckle, " Angel, dear, try not to be a downer, you're ruining my good mood."

I huffed.

" You could say something." He said, voice light.

" I'm giving up on you?" I tried, nudging his shin with the toe of my converse. He chuckled.

Sitting across from me, he handed me a previously made bowl of soup. Taking a bite, I said, " You're always prepared."

" I know." 

Rolling my eyes, I kicked his foot, " You could say thank you."

He flashed a crooked smile, " I didn't think it was a compliment." 

" It wasn't. But still." I took another sip. Steam rolled off the surface of my soup, and licked my cheeks, warming my skin. reaching over, I grabbed a blanket, weary of the candles positioned around the cabin, and draped it around my shoulders. Without heat in the van, it got chilly fast.

We both sat on the floor, my back against the couch, his against the lower cabinets of the kitchen.

I jumped when more thunder dropped the bass. He snickered softly, watching me with curious gaze, " Afraid, Angel?"

" Hardly." I snorted, gripping my soup closer. Of course, I jumped again when more thunder boomed, and curled just a bit tighter next to the couch.

" You're so cliche." He said, rolling his eyes. Non the less, He stood, and turned so he could sit next to me. The heat of his body was both welcome and unwelcome. He also took me by surprise when he mumbled, " You're cold."

I huffed, and scooted a bit away, " I know."

He offered to take my empty bowl. I handed it to him, easily. Placing the dishes in the sink, he found his phone and turned on some music. I almost doubled over laughing when Over Again by One Direction came on, " you like one direction?" My disbelief showed in my eyes. It wasn't a bad song, I just couldn't see him listening to them. 

I could see color flush to his cheeks as he turned off his phone and chucked it onto the bed, " just a few of their songs. So what?"

" It's just funny."