The Bane of Light

Road Trips

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By the time my eyes had fluttered open, a sleet grey tint had tinged the sky. It was clearly dusk, setting an eerie tone on the deserted, snow covered forests. Paris was still driving, watching the road carefully. I don't know what he was watching for; the road was completely empty.

I observed him inconspicuously, my body facing his. I was hoping to see what Paris Arobynn was like when nobody was watching. I was catching an intimate moment of his, where he had no act to put up or no person to impress.

Honestly, it was entirely unimpressive. Boring. He just sat there, staring at the road as if he were transporting priceless cargo in the vehicle. His jaw was set, showing off his defined side profile. Again, he reminded me of a semblance to Apollo, his glowing tan and golden curls making him a spot of light against the grey of the winter.

I stirred, sitting up. The skin nearly ripped off my cheek as I pulled it off the leather. It was most definitely going to be red.  I had no idea how I had went from facing the window, to being curled up on my side, facing Paris. 

My neck ached in pain, having been bent at an odd angle while I was sleeping. I unfolded my body from the fetal position I had been laying in, pulling my legs away from my chest. My seat was reclined from the usual, rigid, upright position I held it in. Paris must have reclined it while I was sleeping.

"You're awake" he stated, his voice no longer holding any  anger. I blinked at him, shocked at the change in demeanor. It was a pleasant surprise; I don't think I could handle much more of his moodiness. His eyes momentarily flickered from the road to me. They were back on the horizon in seconds, and I would have missed the slight glance had I not already been paying attention to him.

"Where are we?" I groaned at him, wiping my mouth. I had been asleep with my cheek pressed against the leather seats, and I wouldn't put it past me to drool. Thankfully, my hand came back dry.

"We're in New Hampshire, getting close to the Massachusetts state line" he told me. My eyes widened. I had been asleep for hours. I sunk back in my seat, but nearly fell a whole yard, thanks to somebody reclining my chair. Scowling at him, I pressed on the recliner button, my seat slowly lifting back up to its the original position. 

"Don't tell me you've been sitting here in complete silence for full hours, you weirdo" I told him, my mouth twisting down into a disturbed expression. 

"I didn't think you would appreciate me messing with you car" he told me.

I scoffed at the thought, "As if you haven't already hijacked it". 

He was right though. I would not take kindly to him touching my car. He already pushed my buttons, I didn't need him pushing my car buttons too.

"Here, I'll turn some music on" he told me, reaching for the radio. I smacked his hand down quickly. 

"Don't you dare" I hissed at him, making sure he didn't put on whatever trashy pop-hit was playing on the radio. Instead, I pressed on my disk drive. Classical music filtered through the car, peaceful enough not to distract from driving.

I needed all the attention I could get when I was behind the wheel. Too many curbs had been roved over and too many animals near hit, when I allowed distracting  music. Plus, classical music was simply better. It had more sustenance, and was much more fulfilling.

After moments of sitting silently, I began to fidget. My car was empty, as I desperately looked around for something to be preoccupied with. The black, leather interior had nothing I could cling on to, nothing to toy with. For once, I cursed my obsessive need for everything to be pristine. Finally, after having nothing better to do, I unrolled the old magazine in my compartment.