Mercury

Three

He hadn't said anything since Mercury introduced herself and that made her feel like shit. In fact, he didn't even look at her- because he didn't want to. She had literally thrown out his last cigeratte and he was craving one more than ever. It had been a crappy start to the day, simply because his best friend was whipped over some girl he barely knew and now he was driving in circles around the suburb with a brat next to him.

""Where are we going?" Mercury's question slipped out unintentionally, and she mentally berated herself for opening her mouth around him again. The car swiftly made a U-turn, eventually coming to a halt at a gas station. He turned to face her, a few dark locks falling in front of his face, and his emerald eyes narrowed, piercing into her. "You're going to go in there and buy me a new pack of Marlboros, 24s, and then I'm dropping you home," he commanded in a low, husky voice that almost made her squirm. Almost. He unlocked the door, and their eyes engaged in a silent conversation. Wordlessly, she opened the door and stepped into the shabby-looking gas station.

The foul stench assaulted her senses as she scrunched her nose and caught the attention of the disheveled man behind the register. "Here we fucking go..." she muttered under her breath, sashaying toward the counter, all too aware of the man's gaze trailing up her smooth, glowing legs before meeting her multi-colored eyes. Glancing at his name tag—Gerald—she smiled flirtatiously, knowing full well the effect she had on him. "What can I do for you, miss?" he grinned, resembling a junkie after his fix. Oh, how she wished she could tell him to stop staring. But when she glanced back at the car, she noticed the enigmatic boy narrowing his eyes, observing the scene. "Err, a pack of Marlboros... 30," she blurted out, hoping she had guessed the correct number.

"It's on me," Gerald offered, and Mercury nodded in response before exiting the station, not willing to prolong the flirtation. She knew it would work—it always did. Did he really think she would spend her money on cigarettes? Opening the car door, she slid in just as he snatched the pack from her hand. It took him only two seconds to flick open the lighter and take a deep drag, exhaling sharply. She chewed her lip softly, captivated by the ethereal way he smoked. Perhaps it was the slight furrow of his brows as he focused on each drag, or the sigh of pure satisfaction that escaped his parted lips afterward. She couldn't quite pinpoint it.

"It's Dean," his husky voice filled the silence of the car as their eyes locked once again. "Dean?" A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth, pleased with the way his name sounded on her tongue. However, that didn't change the fact that she was a brat, and unless they were planning on hooking up—which he particularly wasn't interested in—then he wanted nothing more than for her to get out of his car. He rolled his eyes and started the car, reversing out of the lot with the cigarette still dangling from his lips.

"Are we driving in circles all day, or have you finally figured out where you want to go?" he asked, his tone laced with annoyance.

"I want to go to the beach..." Mercury confessed quietly, secretly wishing to avoid going home. It was already noon, which meant her mother would be back from work soon, and she dreaded the impending lecture. The beach brought her a sense of calm, even though she had only been there twice. Violet was always scared of the ocean, so they never went together. But she was desperate, and her rainbow eyes betrayed her desperation. Dean didn't say anything, and the only sound that filled the car was the wind flapping against its increasing velocity. He was exceeding the speed limit for a suburban area, although they were mere moments away from leaving it behind. She glanced over at him, observing the relaxed expression on his face, and he didn't seem like he wanted to bash her head in.

Mercury let her fingers dance in the wind as she inhaled the musky, smoky scent that permeated his car.

They drove until they arrived at a grassy area overlooking the ocean. Without exchanging a word, they stepped out of the car and made their way toward the water, instinctively walking side by side, removing their shoes until their toes met the cool touch of the waves. Mercury laid her jacket on the sand and sat down, while Dean ventured off toward a rock in the distance.

So they sat on the beach, so close together yet so far apart.
Tolerating and hating eachother at the same time.