give me a city to roam, and a hand to hold.
Beers, indie rock songs, cheap motels and rebellious decisions inside the back of a dark green Volkswagen: You have lived years of your life with high spirits and tears and broken memories. With the agony...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
(look at her smile and not her boob thanks :) )
Close wasn't really the word to describe Lauren and ours' relationship. We got to know her a little bit more like how she doesn't like chocolate and somehow loves Nutella. Honestly, it was the most confusing moment of my life.
Jackson hasn't smoked in a while and by a while, I mean he hasn't taken out his cigarette box since he stopped in the middle of the road earlier. Now, we sit here in the car, driving to God knows where under the orange sky of Florida. Windows on every car door was down, except for the ones by the backseat because Lauren says it'll mess her hair up. I couldn't agree more but I somehow love the deafening sound and the powerful and cold pushes of the wind blowing through my hair. It was soothing in away, but after a while, I swear I almost burst an ear drum.
To get to know Lauren a little better, we started this thing where each of us ask a question and everyone has to answer it, including the asker. Jackson started it with a basic one, before putting in a CD of this band called Grouplove into the car radio.
"Okay, first question. Favorite song?" Jackson asked before smirking, "Mine is Good Times Bad Times by Led Zeppelin."
"Typical, Jax." I shook my head, knowingly. He's always had a thing for old rock bands like AC/DC or Aerosmith. I can't complain, though. Old bands like those are the way to my heart.
"I don't really have favorite songs because they're hard extremely hard to choose from." I hear Lauren say, "But, I guess the song I like at the moment is Perth by Bon Iver."
Bon Iver. One of my favorite bands.
"Well, my favorite song is Wake Me Up." I admitted.
"By who?" Jackson glances over to me, a smirk playing on his lips once again.
"Ed Sheeran." A husky voice called from the backseat.
"You know that song?" I glanced back at her for a moment, before giving her a small smile.
"Of course I do." Lauren smiled back at you, "Cami—Uh, my friend likes that song. Didn't know you were such a softie, (Y/N)."
"Yeah, whatever." I scoffed playfully before turning back at the road that stretched in front of us, "So, what's your question, Lauren?"
I heard her hum in response before speaking, "Any tattoos?"
"Oh, plenty," Jackson bragged, "I have half of a sleeve on my forearm that has a couple roses and a tiger. I've also got—
"Yeah, we got it, Jax." I smiled, "Do you have tattoos, Lauren?"
"A couple. Just three," I could feel her smile, "I have tattoos of a dragonfly on my neck, twenty-seven in roman numerals and a tattoo of my grandma's name on wrist. What about you, (Y/N)?"
