⋆ s t a r r y n i g h t s & i n t e r r u p t e d m o m e n t s ⋆
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querencia (n.) a place from which one's strength is drawn, where one feels at home; the place where you are your most authentic self
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THE SKY IS DUSTED with dark crushed velvet and several shades of smokey blue when the game finishes. The Lions won and the spirit in the air is palpable, cheerleaders jumping all over the football team, spectators cheering and talking over one another as they exit the stadium. I lean against my car, snapping photos and waiting for Nora, when he taps me on the shoulder.
His scent washes over me, dark and seductive, and surprisingly without the bad smell of sweat.
"I'm very curious and partly amazed as to how you managed to escape from your hordes of fans," I tease without moving my face away from the lens.
"Anything is possible when you want it enough," he responds, his deep voice washing over me and eliciting goosebumps along the back of my neck. He's closer than I originally thought, something I actually don't mind. I can feel the heat radiating off of him as he stands behind me, even though we're not touching.
I finally lower the camera as few stragglers remain in the parking lot and turn to face him. His hair gleams in the dark, dripping wet from the water that was poured all over the players when they won. His arms are crossed and he towers over me, radiating energy. His posture is one that seems to demand the attention of everything in a two-mile radius. He has mine at least.
The large floodlights still illuminate the parking lot, highlighting his handsome features. I stare at him for a few moments, the voices around us finally fading as the last few people leave, before my phone pings with a message.
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(ignore time stamp, it's like 8)
I shake my head at Nora's impulsivity and put my phone back in my pocket.
"Well, I guess that's my cue to go," I say, seeing as Jordan is still watching me, green eyes seeming to search for something I wasn't sure I wanted him to find.
"Actually, I was hoping you could give me a ride," he shrugs, rubbing his palm on the back of his neck, "mine kind of ditched me." I give shoot him a sidelong glance, taking note of his sheepish expression. Deciding against giving him a hard time, I unlock the car and climb in.
"Come on," I beckon, starting the ignition. I can't say for sure, but I think I see him do an air fist bump, causing me to chuckle quietly to myself. He throws his duffel bag into the back, hoisting himself into the passenger seat.
