The Love Album Series: Ride -BWWM- (SLOW UPDATES)

02

-Daydreaming by Paramore-

Hot-headed was a word that fit the girl perfectly, yet at the same time, it was an understatement. Just sitting in the passenger seat of Dawn, her body language showed how pissed she still was. She was fidgeting, mumbling curse words under her breath, pulling at her right pierced ear like a person who bit their nails when they were nervous.

Sucking her teeth, she rummaged through her purse with her bloody hand that luckily didn't have any glass stuck in it.

She pulls out a lighter and a pack of empty Marlboros that she was not happy to find vacant.

"Damn it!" she tossed the box back into her purse.

When she noticed a back of Marlboros on the cup holder, she didn't hesitate to grab it.

"You don't mind, do you?"

Having been glancing at her in the driver's seat, Mark watched her take out a cigarette, light it, and start to smoke her turmoil away. Propping her boots on the dash, she even cracked the window to let out the smoke.

Who the hell was this girl? Mark asked himself.

Taking another drag off her cigarette, she gazed at her bloody knuckles wearily.

"Looks like it hurts," Mark attempted to start a conversation.

In his head, everything panned out differently. He saved the damsel in distress and went on his day, feeling like he did a good deed.

Mark had realized this wasn't a fairytale, and this girl was no damsel in distress.

She shrugged, blowing smoke out the window, "I've had worse than Erick. Hell, fought bigger than him."

Letting out a laugh, she shook her head, "I've dated all different colors and sizes, yet they all have one thing in common, putting their hands on me."

Whether she was laughing the pain away or did find it amusing - Mark didn't know. He could only assume both.

"They're always macho until you fight back," she chuckled.

With a sigh, she finally took in the sight of her onlooker.

Like most people did, she noticed his tattoos first. Tilting her head to the side, she eyed what she could see. Due to his leather jacket, all she could see was the artwork on his knuckles and his neck.

Unlike others, that was she considered his tattoos - artwork. Mark had a story, and her facial expression didn't hide how intrigued she was.

She squinted, realizing how uncomfortable Mark was under her gaze. He had tightened his grip on the wheel and everything.

He was waiting for her to judge him or show some sign of discomfort. Amid everything that happened, he had forgotten about his appearance and how it usually scared people.

He was surprised she willingly got in the car.

Now that things were settling down, he was waiting for her to stop the car and cause a scene. But she didn't.

Instead, she just kept on taking in his appearance.

She loved his style, his tattoos, his nose ring, his tamed scruffy brown beard, his beautiful dark blonde curly hair that went a few inches past his shoulders. His soft green eyes were his best feature, though; because under his hard, bad boy, demeanor was a sweet, plush teddy bear.

A man with a heart.

Only a person who took the time to stare into his eyes could see that.

"What?" he finally asked her.