Misadventures

The sun was setting and we were still driving – we did that when things got a bit too much; packed the car and drove. It had been a long day; we had left at about nine and it was going on six in the evening now. It was really nice, just to be alone with him regardless of how much we bickered over where to stop for lunch or what CD to listen to. Needless to say, between touring and recording, we didn’t get much time alone together. We’d been out all day, after having packed his car with snacks and pillows and blankets last night. I had called him in tears begging him to come over and save me from something that would have been inevitable two years ago. All my – our- hard work nearly went down the drain last night, just because I felt destructive. But that’s one of the biggest aspects of my personality – I was incredibly destructive; I had this lust for disaster and often brought it upon myself. Last night was one of those nights. He came over and decided the best way to combat this mood was to get me drunk; so he did. He poured me a disgusting mix of vodka and Coke and got me intoxicated past the point of recognition. In the morning, he woke me up with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, two painkillers and the promise that today would be an adventure – and an adventure it was. He was the best boyfriend under the sun, but that’s not all he was to me – he was the vocalist of one of the bands I admired most in the music industry and he was my best friend. Vic was my getaway really, he was the tool I used to separate myself from the craving I felt for catastrophe.

So we’d driven all day to what felt like the other side of the country - Vic gave me the adventure that he had promised. We had stopped just outside of a major town and found a small diner – the name, albeit creative, escapes me now, but Vic and I had a decent chuckle over it at the time – and had toasted sandwiches and coffee for lunch. When we did drives like this, it was the passenger’s job to pick a direction at every turn. In this case, I was predictable and at most turns called out “Right!”, but was sure to throw in a left every so often, causing Vic to have to make a dramatic turn after having already indicated. We got in the car that was usually packed the night before, and drove for hours with no real end tour journey in sight – once we hit a highway, there was really no stopping us. The day had gone too fast for my liking, my mood still hadn’t subsided and I knew that once I got home, I’d most likely be on my own being forced not to take out this frustration on my own, already torn up, skin. Today in particular, we found our way onto a road that seemed to separate the city from the sea; little towns would pop up every few miles by the side of the beach. For most of the day, I’d had to look out Vic’s window to get a proper look at the crashing waves, angry like the inside of my head, but the tables had now turned and I only had to look to the side to see the ocean. On the other side, there were hills and grassy fields and it was beautiful, but not as beautiful as the person who sat just in front of the scenery, hands clutching the steering wheel and head bobbing to the music that I’d picked. The sun was setting over the beach and I had the perfect view. I was totally unsure of how Vic was navigating the way home – one of the ground rules we’d set on our first drive was that there would be no maps allowed in the car at the time of the excursion. This made for plenty of arguments (usually won by Vic, due to my bad sense of direction), and lots of places we’d discovered but were never able to find again. We once stumbled upon a bed and breakfast that looked too adorable not to take advantage of and after staying the night; it was like the place had just vanished into thin air, taking the smell of pancakes and sweet maple syrup with it. We had a whole rulebook for these drives actually, some were silly things like no kissing while the car was moving (this came about after Vic nearly caused a pileup on a highway, being distracted by my lips; needless to say, I was pretty chuffed, albeit terrified). Another rule was the passenger always picks the music – I think it’s becoming pretty obvious that I am usually the passenger, and I wrote most of these rules.
These drives were so comforting – it was so calming to be in Vic’s presence; he’s such a level headed guy, despite the fame and attention he gets (and deserves). They cleared my head, though today my head felt as cloudy as it had before we’d left, if not more so. I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what was bothering me, but if it didn’t stop soon, well, I don’t know. The first trip we’d taken was a lot like this one, in fact, I felt exactly the same as I do now – trapped and exhausted. I was craving the separation of my skin and the touch of Vic’s. We weren’t a couple when we’d done this first drive, although the circumstances were much the same – I rang his mobile, crying and he came to my house in a rush. It wasn’t long after we’d first met, actually, but I knew that even though we were all but strangers, I could probably trust him with my life. It seemed strange to think that I had once not known Vic; it was like he’d been with me my whole life. He knew me like the strings on his guitar, our lives had interwoven until we’d become attached at the hip. It was the second drive we’d done, six months later, when I had confessed I had feelings for him. I don’t really think I need to tell you how well that went.

Two years later, here we were; my feet were pressed to the dashboard, avoiding the mess of empty chip packets and cans of Coke that were discarded beneath my seat, and my knees were drawn to my chest as I fiddled with the fifth CD of the day, taking it out of its case and popping it into the player. I had damn good taste in music, and so far today the soundtrack had been flawless – no arguments from my boyfriend. Vic groaned as Radiohead started blasting through the speakers in his car. “You know the whole purpose of these drives is to make you feel better?” I nodded, leaning back in my seat and placing my feet back on the dashboard where the dirt from my shoes had made marks in the pattern of their soles, “So tell me why you’re playing Radiohead?”
“Because I like them and I get to pick the music,” I retorted. He chuckled and turned the radio down to a point where I could hear his breathing, but still hear the drone of Thom Yorke’s voice in the background. I loved that, hearing his breathing – it was a reminder that he was alive, and for me, that was bliss. We drove mostly in silence when we did this, it was a good opportunity to think and we both kind of understood that we sometimes really needed to be lost in thought. Silence between two people was good as long as they were comfortable together. And Vic and I were comfortable together, to say the very least.

Just as I was getting sucked back into my thoughts again (my terrifying, awful thoughts), Vic slammed his hand against the steering wheel, causing a huge a sound to erupt from the car, and himself; “FUCK!” he screamed, “No, no, fuck. Not now.”
“What’s your issue?” I questioned, leaning forward until I could see behind the steering wheel and exactly what Vic was glaring at. The little hand was under the ‘E’, signalling that we were out of gas and probably had been running on fumes for a while now, “Fuck. Did you not fill up before we left?” Vic shook his head and leant forward until he was resting on the wheel. The car sputtered to a stop on the side of the road and he pulled the keys from the ignition, “Goddamn it Vic.” I let out a frustrated sigh and fell back dramatically into my seat. He kept his lanky body slumped over the steering wheel, his arms outstretched over the dashboard and groaned in utter annoyance at the fact that we were now stranded, at least until morning. If our friends decided to be creatures of habit this weekend, we’d find that they were all completely hammered and would be no use to us. Vic heaved himself upright again, unbuckled his seatbelt and snapped it off his chest. He looked at me with his huge, chocolate brown eyes, pleading for me not to be angry; it was as if he had just had the same realisation as me, and noticed that we were stuck here for the night.

“At least we have blankets?” He half-said, half-asked. He was right; we did have blankets, and pillows, and probably enough snack food for us to make dinner and not be hungry. But that didn’t change the fact that I was now extremely irritated at him. I wanted to get home, the setting sun had painted the world a sickly colour and it reminded me of when I used to feel the worst; alone as the sun was going down. Not to mention the fact that although I’d never admit it if someone asked me, but I was terrified of the dark. No, not terrified. Darkness was the bane of my existence, being alone in it was something I dreaded and avoided at all costs. Believe me when I say, all costs.
“Vic,” I began, but he cut me off before I could even properly begin my sentence.
“Kellin, please don’t be angry.” He appealed, reaching out to place a hand on my thigh. I flinched, knowing his contact would make me soften, but I didn’t want to; I wanted to stay strong and hold my ground – I knew this was a fight I could very well win and I didn’t feel like backing down.
“No, Vic this is bullshit. We have no way of getting home, and it’s what? Six thirty? We don’t have dinner, I’m exhausted and I don’t particularly feel like sharing a seat in the back of your sedan that isn’t even the size of a single bed.” I spat out the words that seemed to hit him as if I was physically throwing things at him – not just small things either. He cringed with every stinging syllable that fell from my lips, but now my alter ego, the destructive Kellin had taken over and there was no stopping him.
“Oh, um,” he fumbled for words for a moment, but then retaliated with a simple apology.
“Well, fuck. What are we going to do for the rest of the night, then?” With every word, I grew angrier, more frustrated with both Vic and myself; why was he just sitting there and taking this? Why was I even picking this fight? My chest began to pound and soon I could just about hear my blood boiling in my veins, coursing through my body with this lethal venom that I so loved and hated all at the same time.
“Kellin, please stop. Please,” he begged, his face scrunching in a way that was heartbreaking and familiar; he was about to cry.
“Why, Vic? Filling the car with fuel isn’t my responsibility.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I can call someone and see if they can pick us up, if you want?”
“That’s exactly what I want, but you know just as well as I do that our friends will be too drunk to even know whose phone is ringing. We’re stuck here.” Just as I said my last sentence, he opened his car door, letting in a breeze that chilled me to my bones and blew right through me as if I was completely invisible. I wished I was, “Where are you going?” I asked; panic rising in my mind as the thought of him leaving me dawned. The sun was well and truly gone now, sunken into the ocean ready to illuminate the world down below.
“I’m going to get fuel, or food, or something. Today was supposed to be about making you feel better, but it obviously hasn’t helped at all.” He was rummaging through the back of the car now, under all the blankets and pillows and empty packets of food and cans of drink. No, he can’t leave me alone in the dark.
“Vic, no…” He shook his head, his shoulder length wavy hair blowing in his face, hiding the tears that were welling in his eyes.
“No, I need to fix this. I need to fix you…” His sentence trailed off; he winced at his own words that only made the awful side of me even angrier – as far as he was concerned there was nothing to fix. In fact, I wholeheartedly knew that there was nothing to fix, but that was simply because Vic had fixed it. He finally found what he was in search of – a flashlight, buried underneath the mess we’d made and rolling around on the floor behind the driver’s seat. Vic took it in both hands, his tanned, calloused skin wrapping around it and flicking the switch to see if it worked. A sigh that could be described as nothing but one of relief escaped his lungs as the light bounced off every surface in the car, making it brighter than the sun. I had to squint my eyes at first; giving them time to adjust, but by then Vic had moved to the front of the car and was planting a soft kiss on my cheek, “I’ll be back soon. Give me an hour and if I haven’t found anything, I’ll head back.” His lips lingered on my skin for a moment, my entire body ached for him to stay, to hold me and to tell me it was okay while I sobbed apologies into his chest. But instead he was leaving, in search of something to make me feel better, while deep down we both knew he was the only thing that could do that. I wanted to shake my head, to grab his arms and pull him back into the car on top of me; but as long as I was still strapped to this seat not only by the buckle but by my self-loathing alter ego, I couldn’t do that. This was like a nightmare unfolding before my eyes – not only was I being left, stranded, while Vic went in search of help, but it was happening in the dark, where all sorts of demons could come after me. I wasn’t prepared for that, since Vic was taking the only source of light we had.

He flicked the light on the roof – which was dim and barely changed anything except for the fact that I could see his face, inches from mine - and told me to sit tight while he walked; I had an hour until he returned. If he did at all. The thought of Vic not coming back to be was very real and very scary. There were axe murderers everywhere, sick fucks who wanted to skin him alive and drink his blood. The possibilities were endless, and considering Vic was young and endlessly breathtaking, well, let’s just say if I were out to kill someone, Vic would stand out in a crowd. And it was less than crowded out here. Not to mention the fact that I was an easy target too; I didn’t have the advantage of strength or height behind me, nor was I a fast runner. If worst came to worst out here on my own, my best chance would be hiding, and I wasn’t in a very conspicuous spot to begin with. This aside, I was still a child at heart, and with that came the fear of “monsters under your bed”. There could be any number of ghosty figures out to get me. I shuddered at the thought as he kissed me once more and said a quick goodbye, shutting the door behind him and walking away, taking the light with him.

And just like that, I was alone.

It was a feeling I’d grown used to, I guess. Countless nights in my apartment as I stumbled over my own feet with nothing but the light from my TV to guide me; 3 AM black and white movies were all in my past ever since I met Vic. I could never sleep, and I used to jump at the chance to do something that would hurt me – really, I was a disaster, spiralling out of control, which is where the lust for pain comes from. I wish I could tell you that I was neglected as a child, that something horrible had happened to me to make me so messed up, but truthfully, my life was a plain as the next kid’s. My father had left when I was young, but I barely remembered him anyway so it didn’t affect me much; my mother remarried when I got older to a man I couldn’t stand to be around. I was a sick, twisted dreamer until I met Vic absolutely by chance. Along with the side of my personality that wanted my life to be in ruins, came the side that grew so attached to people it was almost painful to be away from them – I found that attachment with Vic and it still stuck with me, two years into my relationship with him. Right now, my chest was thudding, my heart begging me to follow. Before Vic, I was convinced that life was some kind of dizzy dance that and I was well on my way to whirling into oblivion. He saved me and I thanked him by picking fights with him at every chance I got. I felt completely defeated, like the worst person in the world, and completely undeserving of Vic. And I probably wasn’t. He was attentive to my every childlike need, serving me breakfast in bed when he was off tour, and surprising me with gifts when I was away. If soul mates and other halves existed, Vic was mine. It was like our bodies were poured into moulds that specifically fit each other and no one else’s. His dark skin in contrast with the pale white tone of mine, and how our eyes were at opposite ends of the colour spectrum but pierced into each other’s souls like we could read even the darkest thoughts in the back of our heads. Put simply, we were made for each other. Why couldn’t I just accept that? I was insecure from the get go, coming into this world with a mind that was creative but dark – my head wasn’t the type of place you want to look into. I knew I was different, and it was always a question of how different I had to be until I was totally ostracised from my peers – the answer to that question? Not very. I had found few friends on my journey in life, and had spent most of my twenty-two years resided in the back of my skull, worried about what judgement each day would bring. Not only was I insecure about my head being filled with crazy things, but also my looks – it was brought to my attention all through high school that I was not the type of person most would think to be attractive, nor was I desirable to girls or guys alike. So, I was odd little Kellin who sat in the corner and wrote lyrics during his lunch breaks. A year out of high school, I met Vic, and at this point, I was more than ready to give up; every night I was drunk and I’d wake up the next morning either with a hangover that kept getting progressively worse, or still highly intoxicated. When I met him, alcohol was fresh on my breath and he was holding my hair back in a public bathroom as I heaved my broken body over the tiles and hung my head over the rim of the toilet. He was a stranger then, having slipped his phone number into the pocket of my jacket, insisting I call him when I got home to let him know I was okay. I still thank God – if there even is one – for that night. Even now, years later, I can almost feel the tips of his calloused fingers brushing the back of my neck and sending an electric current through my body. Vic was, in every essence, the perfect stranger.

I opened all four doors of the car, hoping to catch some of Vic’s scent on the breeze as he disappeared into the distance. There were no sounds except for the heartbeat thundering against my chest and the waves that were crashing against the sand. The breeze was still blowing, harder now than before, but Vic seemed to have left no traces of him behind. It was going on seven and I still had an hour to wait until he came back. I wondered what he was thinking about, if it was about me; if he was even thinking at all. I should have told him to bring something with him, some sort of breadcrumb so he could find his way home to me, but instead I let him go off with nothing but his sense of direction. The light in the car began to flicker, signalling that not only were we out of gas, but the car battery was running low, and soon I would be sitting in complete darkness. In the distance, I could see streetlights; or at least I hoped they were streetlights and not headlights from a passing car. After studying the yellowish light for a few minutes and counting the passing seconds in my head, I decided I was safe and that they were streetlights. In search of something that could bring Vic back to me, if only for a second, I clambered over the centre console – the only thing that separated us when we were on these drives – and into the back of the car, where the seats were laying down. We’d been in here, only a few hours earlier, cocooned against each other, shivering away from the cold. Why couldn’t we have stayed here? Fuck. Everything was such a mess, both in the car and in this relationship. I rifled through the sheets we’d been lost in earlier today, and came across a jacket that was slightly too big for me – the outside was brown leather, the inside warm and fluffy; considering I was only wearing a singlet and cutoff jeans, this was perfect for the weather. I wished Vic had taken it. It was ugly but it fit Vic’s wardrobe and I knew it would be warm; I slipped it over my bare shoulders, goosebumps rising on my skin as my entire body warmed and I tried to draw my knees up into the body of it. I was planning on zipping myself into the fleece on the inside, seeing as the sheets we’d packed were going to be cold with the night air. Obviously, we hadn’t planned on cold weather, nor had we planned on being stranded. Then again, Vic and I didn’t plan on much. I debated going off and finding him, leaving the car open to whatever strangers may want to ransack it – there wasn’t much in there, it was a crap car to say the least; the best thing in it would have been the stereo system and I, personally, didn’t think it was worth the effort. But Vic would have been distraught, so I decided to stay in the little silver sedan, shivering and trying to get the worn seats to absorb me. I’ve never felt less safe in my entire life – not only was the only person who made me feel like I belonged gone, but it was the middle of the night and it looked like the tide was coming in. I was probably going to die tonight, or, if by some miracle I made it through the night, I’d wake to find I was about to be killed in some brutal way that not even the darkest corners of my mind could begin to fathom.

The moon hung in the sky, sorrowful and tired – the nocturnal light seemed so much dimmer to me since I’d met Vic; nothing could match the way he illuminated the world in my eyes. When he walked into a room, it was still light from the last time he’d been in it. The stars were scattered randomly across the dark blue canvas and it was useless then I tried to make them into patterns – I only saw Vic. After giving up with the zipper on the jacket and accepting that I would just have to be cold, I climbed further back in the car and released the hatch that kept the trunk closed; it sprung open and the breeze blew harder. I hadn’t realised just how windy it was outside, considering the doors were blocking most of the breeze (if you could even call it that). The car was only a shell now; it felt like I was tempting fate, but the fact that I knew I was tempting fate meant that I would be safe; if that makes sense. The air smelled of the beach, but not the good kind where you could almost smell the sunshine; but the night time kind, the kind where the scent of rotten fish carried on the breeze and tumbleweeds of various ocean plants scurried over your feet in a desperate attempt to get back to the water. It was like a full moon on Pirates of the Caribbean, and that terrified me – how long would it be until the skeletal monsters made their way out of the depths of the darkness and into the cabin of this comfy little car?

The light above me flicked off.

My breath hitched in my throat, causing me to choke on the saliva lingering in my mouth. I coughed and sputtered for a few minutes, fully aware that I could now see nothing, including the psychopaths that were probably encasing the car with their weapon of choice ready in hand. The fact that I was in the middle of a full blown asthma attack definitely wouldn’t be helping me stay hidden. In the event that I was about to be bludgeoned to death, maybe the fact that I seemed ill would make them kill my faster – have mercy… Or something. My hands were shaking like autumn leaves falling from the trees; my hair blew back in the wind, probably tangling into some kind of mess that I wasn’t prepared to deal with just yet. I balled my useless hands into fists, now rendering myself still defenceless but maybe I had a chance if something were to go pear shaped. My whole life was pear shaped, but I couldn’t exactly punch it in the face. Although I could hardly see, the fluorescent glow of my skin still drew attention to me – being pale was never my favourite physical attribute. My knuckles were pasty where the skin stretched over them, thin and ebony. I tried hard not to make a noise but my breathing was so heavy and my heart was beating so loudly, I was sure that it could be heard from wherever Vic was. As if my body were out of my control, I started gasping for breath, convulsing in waves of utter terror. The realisation that I was alone in the dark just hit me like a tonne of bricks; I clawed at the seats and the leather jacket, struggling to make myself as small as possible. This act wasn’t hard – I was already tiny. Vic’s body was lanky and masculine compared to mine; my arms were thin and his were tanned and muscular, but felt amazing wrapped around me. Being small wasn’t an issue, being loud was.

I pressed my cheek to the folded down car seat; it was a scratchy material that resembled the fur of a dog my neighbour had when I was a child. It had bitten me. I flinched away, trying to find a better position to lay in. As of now, I was flat on my stomach, my arms folded under my chest and my legs awkwardly and painfully under one of the front seats. I flicked one arm out and pulled a door shut, then rotated slowly onto my back, lifting my feet up as I went, to make sure I didn’t get stuck and break my leg. That would only make me even more vulnerable. Even though I’d seen nor heard any traces of anyone or anything nearby, there was no doubt in my mind that there was something. There always seemed to be something. I was in full panic attack mode; my palms were sweating and my eyes were blurred by tears. My breathing was worse now; I was letting out audible gasps every few seconds as I tried to allow the ocean air fill my sorry lungs. I reached out to shut the second door, but I wasn’t brave enough to shut the two front ones. I wasn’t brave at all; Kellin the cowardly lion had come out to play.

Now that I had moved into a more flattering and comfortable position, I was becoming confident that I would be able to ward off anyone who tried to take me out; most people don’t bother when someone puts up a fight, right? Most of the car was still wide open – the hatch at the back and the two front doors, but the fact that I was laying flat on my back covered by sheets and various other things was keeping me pretty concealed, and I wasn’t about to compromise myself. I was safer here than I was rustling things about, so I stayed put.

Until I heard footsteps.

They were hard on the gravel, and sounded very far away. It was really faint, and I had to strain my ears to hear it, but there was no doubt that it was there. Every few steps, it would stop, or stumble – I couldn’t decide between the two. There was no light that came with it, only the sound of footsteps that was getting closer and closer. It was ominous; my heart thudded against my ribcage and jumped into my throat. I was sure you could see it through the blankets that covered me, not to mention the fact that I was shivering violently and still in the midst of a panic attack. I tried to calm my breathing, to count to ten and settle down, but nothing worked. As the footsteps approached, I felt myself tense; every muscle in my body tightened as I became hyperaware of everything around me. I wondered about weapons - the keys to the car were on the driver’s side where Vic had dropped them in frustration earlier, my iPod was in the front seat where I was sitting, and if I could get in a decent throw of that, it would probably leave a nice bruise and a killer headache. They were coming closer still, and it was a now or never moment where I had to decide whether or not to make a dash for one of the two items, or face… Death probably. Yeah, I was going to die. Another few seconds and I’d have missed my opportunity, it would go soaring out the window and flying on this breeze until it hit the ocean and sunk to the very bottom. I had a split second to make my decision, and after all of half a millisecond of thought, I turned over and began to make my way into the front of the car. Throwing the sheets off me gently, so I made no more noise than was absolutely necessary I climbed between the driver and the passenger seat and slid down where anyone sitting in the seat would rest their feet. My body curled into a ball and I managed to hide myself quite well I think. I reached up and felt around blindly for the glass screen or metal back of my iPod until I found it, wedged between the seat and the backrest. I grabbed it and took it between two sweaty palms, ready for when my assailant walked past the open door.

The footsteps grew closer, and I could see a figure now silhouetted by the moonlight. I couldn’t make out much of his appearance other than that he was male, judging by the way he held himself – very masculine and tall. I could see him from walking towards the car from behind. As he approached, he pulled the trunk of the car shut and sighed heavily. I clutched the iPod, now gripping it in one hand tightly. The figure stood at the back of the car for a moment, pondering which way to go – from where he was standing, it probably looked suspicious and abandoned and I suppose that stealing was his only option now. And the best access to steal the radio was through the passenger seat. He walked, scuffing his feet along the gravel under his shoes, until he reached the open door. I still couldn’t make out any of his features, just that he was extremely tall and looked like he could put up a decent fight. I tried to stay hidden, in case my attempt at flinging an iPod in his direction failed, I’d at least have a chance at staying safe if I hid, right? He pushed the door closed slightly, making his way around to stand right in front of me – he didn’t notice that I was balled up on the floor as he leaned over the seat and I drew my arm back. Before I could stop myself, before I thought about my action, I flung my arm forward and smacked him across the forehead with the metal side of my iPod, dropped it then jumped out of the car with both fists up, ready to fight.

That was before I caught his scent on the breeze, followed by a deafening “WHAT THE FUCK?!” I nearly jumped out of my skin as Vic let out the bloodcurdling cry, lifting his hand to his head and spinning around to face me, “What was that for?” he demanded, poking around in search of his soft spot; he winced as he touched the raw patch of skin I could see already bruising in the moonlight. I had no answer; admitting to Vic I was afraid of the dark and the monsters that roamed in it would make me seem weak, and I couldn’t afford to have him think I was weak. He thought I was strong, at least in mentality to make up for what strength I lacked in appearance – not some coward that cringed at the thought of sleeping without at least the bathroom light on.
“Nothing,” I replied, shaking my head and walking, barefoot, over the gravel to meet him.
“Bullshit, you just about took my head off,” he spat; his forehead creased in disapproval of my actions, “why?”
I had no real excuse I suppose – I probably should admit my fear to Vic before I was sleeping on the couch in the dark, with no protection from him at the very least, “Um,” I began, knotting my fingers together, “I was scared. I’m scared… Of the dark and of everything in it, and I didn’t realise you were you and…” I started to freak out again, tears forming in my eyes as my bottom lip trembled in fear of the obvious darkness I could feel encroaching on me, and the obvious terror that Vic would reject me. Instead he enveloped me into his arms, pulling my head to where it rested comfortably just under his chin. He shushed me, rubbing big circles on my back and tangling his fingers through my mess of hair.
“Kellin, baby, I’m so sorry I left you. Oh my gosh, I’ve ruined everything about today.” He shook his head, his wavy brown hair flying out behind him, catching on the gusts of air, and pressed my head into his chest so I could feel his heartbeat right in my eardrum. I was still wearing his filthy jacket as he shivered in the cold wind; I shrugged out of it and used the one free arm I had to wrap it awkwardly around both of us, creating a badly designed windbreaker. Vic sniffled above me, indicating that he was crying too, “If it helps, I found a gas station; no one was there, but I left a note with my number and asked if they’d come by tomorrow. I called Mike too, but he was drunk… Which I guess shouldn’t be news to me.” He shrugged.
“No, Vic. You haven’t ruined anything at all – I lose my temper when I shouldn’t. I’m sorry, I’m the one that should be sorry,” I wrapped my arms around his waist, pulling him closer – although I was the smaller out of the two of us, it felt like Vic was tiny right now, a life-sized porcelain doll placed carefully in my arms. He lifted his hand from the back of my head and wiped his tears, pulling away from me slowly.
“Well,” he sighed, “I guess we’re stuck here tonight, baby.”
I grinned from ear to ear, “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he pulled me into one last hug before he clambered into the car, arms and legs flying in every direction; he nearly kicked me in the face as he scrambled past all the seats and started setting up blankets. Vic giggled and wound windows down, telling me he was an expert at this; tucking each spare blanket a little bit through the window and creating makeshift curtains, he smiled at his inventions and waited for me to give the nod of approval. I laughed along with him as I climbed into the back of the car, closing all the doors and locking us into the cabin – it grew humid quickly, although the cold still radiated through the steel shell of the car. We pushed the passenger and driver’s seats right forward, giving us more room to stretch out, and when we were finished, he lay on his back, his head propped up by pillows and me straddling his waist. My hands rested on either side of his stomach, bobbing up and down as he breathed. He smiled up at me, his lips stretching across his teeth in an attempt to hide just how happy I made him; I couldn’t help but grin back. He lifted his hands to my hips and pulled me down gently, bringing my face to his and exhaling. His breath smelled of soft drinks, sweet and sugary, but also of coffee which added a bitterness to the scent that lingered around my face for a moment. He moved one hand from my hip and to my cheek, cradling it delicately in his hand. His callouses from hours and hours of playing guitar rubbed my temple as he moved the hair out of my face and brushed it behind my ear in one, swift movement.
“Sorry this didn’t go to plan,” he breathed, breaking the silence between us. I loosened by body, allowing my back to curve and my stomach to press against his. I leant forward a few inches, resting my forehead on his.
“Don’t be sorry, this is actually perfect,” I replied; it was completely true – right now, I was content with Vic, sharing this moment.
“Is it really?” he asked, a glimmer of hope in his voice.
“Of course it is,” I touched my nose to his, and then finally, our lips met. It wasn’t a fleeting moment, in fact, I think we’d both expected this kiss, but the fact that it wasn’t spur of the moment didn’t make it any less passionate; his tongue glided across my bottom lip, pulling it down and into his mouth where his teeth grazed it gently – my breath caught in my throat as he did this, causing him to smile into the kiss, probably that beautiful smirk he did when he knew he was being damn attractive and I couldn’t do a thing about it. His hand ran up my back, tip-toeing up my spine, until he reached my neck; he rested his palm there for a moment, before pushing me down. His lips pressed against mine harder, but I wasn’t about to protest this. After another moment of bliss, he pulled away, leaving my body and my lips aching for his presence. I rolled off him, and onto my back, landing on a soft pile of pillows, while Vic propped himself up on an elbow and planted one final kiss on each of my eyelids.
“I’ll be your big spoon?” he asked, his chocolate brown eyes meeting mine.
“Sounds good to me,” I answered, turning on my side and pulling his arm around my waist. He adjusted himself so that he was close to me, only separated by a layer of clothing. He lifted both of our shirts so the skin on his stomach met the skin on my back and I almost groaned at how good the contact felt. He was warm against my skin, like his tan took the warmth from the sun with it and carried it around until it was useful – like for example, now.
“Hey Kells?” he asked into the darkness.
“Yeah?”
“Love you.” He ducked his head, his breath hot on the back of my neck, and trailed kisses around to my jaw.
“Love you too Vic,” I replied.