Hell to the No

Thea

"You look sooooo tiiiiiiired, Leithea," Roman croons in an oddly sympathetic voice, a huge smile plastered on his features. I smack both hands against my face to hide it, smiling wide underneath them.

"So?" my muffled voice croaks out in a snarky tone.

"It's adorable," he croons some more.

"Sage, switch me seats."

"Why do you think you're in the middle? I'm not sitting by that chum."

"Thanks, buddy. Love you too," Roman chimes, and Sage chuckles as he leans his elbow on the open window. Sage turns his head to flash Roman a wide grin, and he pats my leg.

"Strength." I give a tired smile as I lightly touch his hand in a dramatic gesture.

"I appreciate the blessing. We'll just kick his ass if he gets out of hand," I say directly to Sage, and I hear Roman hiss.

"I'll throw you clear out of this truck, Revora," he says with a smirk. Sage throws an arm around my shoulder to pull me in protectively as he gives Roman a pout.

"But she's so snarky, can we keep her, pretty please?" I join in on the act, nuzzling innocently like a small child into Sage, both of us giving him heartbreaking puppy dog eyes. Roman throws one hand up with an exasperated laugh.

"It's two on one here, guys! And neither of you are cute at all, I'll throw you both outta here! You for high treason, Sage, and you for illegal amounts of bullshit," he says the last part with a jab at my shoulder. Sage releases me as we both burst into laughter, poking and flicking at Roman. He waves us off in a huff.

"No distracting the driver, assholes," he grins, grabbing my hand like a vice to prevent me from poking at his thigh any longer. "Sage, plug my ipod in." I let Roman keep my hand captive for a bit as Sage complies with a chuckle, and soon we're serenading the countryside with loud screamo music blasting out our windows. I grin wide at one of my favorite albums, Asking Alexandria's Stepped up and Scratched, filled with the perfect combination of dubstep-like techno and screamo. I nod my approval to Sage when he tilts his head at me. After a moment of all singing along to the Celldweller remix of A Lesson Never Learned, Roman pauses to fish his Droid out of his pocket to hand it to me.

"Check that text for me, will you?" he asks. I flush lightly as I clutch his phone, full of his personal messages and pictures and stuff. He turns the music down to guide me through the lock code, and I smile slightly that he trusts me with such knowledge. I navigate to his messages, trying not to dawdle suspiciously as my curiosity peaks once I'm in the messages. With a smile, I notice he doesn't really text anyone besides Sage, me, and his mother. The new message is from her, and I read it aloud.

"Turn that screaming nonsense down, hooligan, I'm trying to enjoy the drive!" We all laugh at her text, leaning close to the front dash to peer out the window at the silver car driving along in front of us. Roman speeds up to ride her butt, and we all grin at her. She rolls her eyes at us in the rear-view mirror, twiddling her fingers briefly in a wave.

Shoo! She mouths dramatically, flailing her hand dismissively out her open window. All three of us laugh as Roman eases up on the gas to give her space, and Sage periodically cranks the music up just so she can hear it for a few moments. We tire of the game, and the music is soon just soft background noise with the rushing wind from the open windows that toss my straight pink hair about.

After a few minutes of talking and joking with one another, my eyelids are starting to get heavy with the gentle lull from the truck in motion. In the middle seat, my sleeping position is limited to just lying my head back and balancing as best I can. It jostles to the side with every bump, and I groan as I cannot keep awake at the same time that it's impossible to sleep.

I manage it, though, since the next thing I lucidly remember is waking up against Sage's shoulder. I mumble another sleep-starved protest at my consciousness, and Sage looks at me. He leans back to drag a pillow from the narrow back seat as I sit up in a half-asleep daze. He places it on his lap before giving it a pat.

"Here," he says, and relief floods through me as nothing feels more comfortable than to lie down, curled up between Sage and Roman. I hear Roman chuckle as I close my eyes, my folded legs resting against the side of his thigh. It doesn't take me long to pass out.

When I wake up, it's very slowly. First I become conscious, eyes still closed, as the awareness of my physical state creeps up after I wake. The rush from the open windows is absent, and the sound of low, soft music floats from the truck's sound system as Alex Gaskgarth serenades us. I peek open one eye to look around without moving. Sage is snoring softly, arms folded over his chest just above my face, his body slumped in the seat, and his head lying back against the corner of the seat cushion and the window. An Attack Attack hoodie is bundled up as a pillow under his blond head. The sound of Roman's soft singing voice floats down toward me, and I peer discretely at him. He is sitting back comfortably in the driver's seat, in his usual driving pose with one arm stretched straight with the connected hand dangling over the top of the steering wheel. His other arm is draped over my bare legs, extended languishly across his lap. My heart flutters as he continues to sing along, his fingers absently trailing lines over my legs. Thank god I shaved last night.

"Carry on home, I'll be waiting miles and miles away. Leaving you to be forever seventeen, cleaning up the messes that you've made," I hum the harmony along with him at the end, barely audible as my heart starts to pound at the sound of his singing voice. I can barely hear it, he's singing so soft, but my ears strain to pick up more when the song changes. He doesn't sing along to this one, though. But Roman sings? God damn! The warmth from his hand disappears as he lifts it to pick up the ipod, eyes switching from the road and back to click through the library. He furrows his brow slightly as he drifts all over his lane in the distraction. I rub my eyes briefly before using one arm to lean up toward Roman my legs still laying across his lap. I touch his shoulder as I reach for the ipod.

"Here, let me," I whisper, my voice rough from sleep. He blinks at me in surprise, hesitating as my hands wrap gently around his on the music-playing device. He glances at me as he slides his hand from the ipod.

"I'm sorry if I woke you," he says in a soft voice, his arm going back to rest on my legs. My heart warms at the touch.

"You didn't. Which song do you want?" I ask as I start to click through to see what music he has.

"When You Can't Sleep At Night," he says, and I find the familiar Of Mice and Men track. I smile as the gentle music and acoustic guitar floats from the speakers. I sigh as I lean against Roman's shoulder.

"I like it when screamo bands make songs like these," I mumble, still slightly drowsy from the nap. It's a good drowsy, though. Roman nods in agreement as he runs his hand listlessly across my legs, from my toes to my thigh and back in gentle strokes. My heart feels drunk from his touch, and the urge to be closer to him creeps up on me. I hum along with Shayley as I slip my hand down to rest just above my knee as Roman's touch travels on its journey to my toes. Butterflies erupt in my stomach as he does what I hoped he would. His large pale hand continues its caress, his touch sending chills up my back as he trails his way over my fingers, the top of my hand, my arm. He lingers on my hand and fingers on the way back.

"Pretty little lady, with the swollen eyes, will you show them to me?" his voice sings softly, making the whole world disappear in this moment, "I know I'm not that perfect, but you stay awhile, baby, then you will see." My heart feels about to burst as the lyrics and meaning of the beautiful song strike a chord in me. I look up to him as I hum along with his singing, and he looks stoic, tired. I hesitantly rest my hand against his bicep, my fingers lightly caressing his pale skin.

"Are you getting sleepy?" I ask softly, and he smiles drowsily at the road.

"A bit. But I'll be fine," he tells me, his hand stopping to curl under my knee and grasp the top of my calf. With my head against his shoulder, and my hand achingly inching to rest on his chest, I resist the strongest urge to place my lips against the skin of his neck. Never before has anyone ever made me feel so warm, so comfortable, so safe. Roman Spade... Why can't I just trust you?

"Are you sure?" I murmur, my voice betraying my longing with a tender and affectionate note. He looks down at me briefly, making my breath short at the proximity between our faces for that short instance.

"Positive, Thea."

Thea. No one's ever called me that before.