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

04

-Before They Make Me Run by the Rolling Stones-

Mark had thought of everything. From the decor to the amenities. There was a kitchenette, a shower, a toilet, pull out table, spice rack, storage space, a mini-fridge, a bed - everything you needed - on wheels.

"I've seen a lot of cool things in this lifetime, but this takes the cake," Denise stepped out of the van. She sat on the edge beside Mark, who had been smoking a cigarette while she looked around.

"You've really outdone yourself," she gave him props. "Could have repainted the van though," Denise looked at the bright orange paint in distaste.

"Why? What's wrong with orange?" Mark cocked an eyebrow.

"Nothing, it just happens to be the ugliest fucking color in the rainbow."

Mark looked away, holding in a laugh.

"Just saying," Denise lifted her shoulders, crossing one leg over the other.

"Yeah, well," Mark turned his head and looked down at her, "guess we'll have to agree to disagree."

Purposely, Denise avoided his gaze, looking off to the side.

The first time they met, Mark was the one uncomfortable under her gaze, and now - it was the other way around.

"When are you leaving?" she asked.

Putting his gaze forward, Mark held the cigarette out to her, "soon as possible."

Denise took the cigarette without thinking, "hm," she took a drag.

She closed her eyes and blew the smoke in the air, letting the nicotine do what it did best - calm her nerves.

If she didn't get her shit together, cigarettes were going to kill her a lot faster than she wanted them too.

"You wanna come?" Mark turned to look at her.

"Come where?" she questioned inquisitively with her eyes closed.

"With me - on the road."

Denise snickered, amused, "why the hell would I want to do that?"

"It was technically your idea," Mark pointed out.

Unsure if he was serious, Denise opened her eyes to look into his.

There he was, wearing that look of sincerity that Denise couldn't quite figure out was real or night - despite falling into it.

"Mark," she grazed her tongue across her bottom lip, "I don't know you."

"Denise," Marks takes the cigarette away from her, "we're sharing a smoke, I think we're pretty much besties at this point," he recites her exact words.

A perplexed Denise scoffed, while a grinning Mark stood, putting the cigarette to his lips.

So the teddy bear had a sense of humor, Denise thought.

She stood, crossing her arms over her chest, "why?"

"Why, what?" Mark kept his back turned.

"Why are you inviting me?"

He shrugged slightly, "I could use the company."

"Right," Denise scoffed, unamused.

"Why does it matter?" Mark turned to her, "you talked about wanting to leave. Here's a chance."