Summary: "We are terrible for each other, and, yes, we are a disaster. But tell me your heard doesn't race for a hurricane or a burning building. I'd rather die terrified than live forever." - a softer world
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't own.
Author's Notes: No, I don't know why it's written in second person, it just is. Deal with it.
He leans in and kisses you. Again. Despite the number of times you’ve told him that it wouldn’t work, that it can’t possibly work, he never listens. He keeps kissing you, like somehow you might decide to give in, to leap of the edge of sanity just like he clearly has. Thoughts of your sister persist in the back of your mind, and you push him off of you gently. He frowns, but accepts it and leans against the side of the van, reaching into his pocket for his cigarettes.
“You know…” he starts, but you cut him off with a shake of your head.
“Don’t,” you say, knowing where his train of thought is heading. “Just, don’t. I’m too tired to argue the same points over and over again with you.”
He’s shaking his head, searching through his pockets, trying to find his lighter. You aren’t sure if he’s shaking his head at your refusal or at the fact that his lighter is always hiding in his pockets, even though you’re not sure how, with his pants being as tight as they are. You reach into his pocket and pull it out for him, and he mumbles a thank you.
“Why not?” he asks after he lights his cigarette. You roll your eyes, because, just once, you’d like for him to not require an argument after. “And please don’t give me that disaster excuse. I know it’s a disaster, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting it.”
You turn to look at him, because this isn’t something that he’s shared before. You’re having a hard time wrapping your head around the concept that he understands why you say no, he just wants to rush forward anyway. You can’t understand welcoming a hurricane into your life.
He looks away from you, like he doesn’t want you to see the resignation in his eyes. “So, okay, we’re terrible for each other, and it would be a disaster of epic proportions were we ever to get together, but so what?” You start to speak, but he continues. “I realize that it may lead to the break-up of the band, and will definitely lead to your sister breaking up with me, but think about the rush of it. You can’t always look at the end result, you have to look at the journey. Besides, who’s to say that we won’t become the happy poster couple for alternative lifestyle couples? Are you psychic? No, so you don’t know how it will end. So, please, just enjoy a journey with me.”
You stand for a moment, speechless. He shakes his head again, then drops his cigarette on the ground and goes into the convenience store to poke Mark until he finally makes a decision, because it should not take 20 minutes to pick between Lays and Doritos, especially considering that he will most likely just buy both.
Everyone finally climbs back into the van, and you sit up front, because it’s Adam’s turn to drive and everyone else is perfectly happy to cower in terror in the back seats. You’re on the road for about an hour when you ask him, “Where does this journey you had in mind begin?”
He just looks at you and smiles.