We sit in silence for the next 10 minutes or so. The music on the radio is country music which is really fucking annoying.
-
I pretend to look out the window and make sure not to get caught as my hand slightly goes up to touch the radio. I try to change it to another channel at least, but Aaron's hand wraps around my wrist. It doesn't hurt, but if I move my wrist he'll probably grab on harder.
"Oh come on. This music is shit. Please just let me change it. To another station at least." I beg. He keeps his eyes on the road not paying attention to what I'm saying.
"Please you can't tell me you actually like this crap." I laugh, as my eyes look out the window. It's an empty street and the moon is the only light out.
My head immediately snaps towards Aaron as his expression changes. "Oh my god. You're fucking with me?" I say, which I now wished I would've used another word. "Holy crap. You like this crap. You like country music. Oh my god." I say as I burst out laughing.
"Shut up." I can hear Aaron say, which only makes me laugh even more.
"I'm sorry—" I say, barely containing my laugh,"It's just—it's really really hard picturing you actually vibe with country music." I say. I'm containing my laughter, but a smile still manages to get out.
"I'm dropping you off here." Aaron says, as he pulls over to the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. "Aaron, I'm sorry. I deeply apologize. I fuck with your t-type of music." I say, trying not to laugh.
He doesn't say anything, but continue driving. "So, what's your favorite color?" I ask, to take my mind off his caca music taste.
His head snaps towards me, which makes me anxious. "Keep your eyes on the road beer boy." I tell him again.
His eyes go back onto the road. "So are you not going to answer me?" I tell him.
He shakes his head. "Use your words beer boy. You clearly didn't have a problem earlier." I tell him. I look towards him, but his eyes are still on the road. I accept the fact that he's not going to answer me, so I keep my eyes on the moon and stars shining through the car window.
"You'll laugh at me." He says out of nowhere. I smile at his response. "I promise you I won't." I say, sincerely. It couldn't be worse than Jacksons favorite color.
Orange. Jacksons favorite color is Orange.
Worse possible color ever. I truly deeply appreciate people who can style the color orange and even better, wear it and not look totally stupid.
Aaron seems to trust me and confides in me to tell me his favorite color. Adorable.
"Purple." He says, without hesitation. I don't laugh. I don't even snicker a little. I smile. I smile because his favorite color is purple. I hate the color purple, but I won't tell him that. At least not yet.
"Why would you think I would laugh at you?" I ask, his eyes don't leave the road which I appreciate.
"You laughed at me because I like country music." He responds, which makes me laugh a little.
"We'll yeah it's fucking country music." I tease him a little.
He releases a small smile. "Why is your favorite color purple?" I ask him. I'm curious. Most guys say blue or red. Sometimes green. I've never met a guy who likes the color purple. Prefers it.
"I don't know. I guess it's because it's a combination of my two other favorite colors. Blue and Red." He says, which makes me kind of disappointed. "I'm kidding." He says after he sees my disappointment in my face. His genuine smile gets to me.
"What's your favorite color?" He asks me. Jackson has never asked me about my favorite color. Or where I like to eat. What I like to eat. What do I do in my free time.
It makes me wonder why I've never broken up with Jackson before. He rarely treated me like his girlfriend. He knew more about the girls in our class then he did about me.
"I don't know actually. I've never really liked a color that much you know?" I say back. He doesn't say anything.
Aaron and me ask each other questions on the ride back. I've learned more about Aaron in this car ride then I do about my own dad.
It makes me disappointed. I should know my own father then I should know about a guy I barely know, but now I know.
Aarons funny. He makes me feel special. Like I matter. Not that I didn't matter before, but it feels like now it's more important.
It doesn't matter if you matter in life, of course everyone matters. It's the people who make you matter. Who make you seem like you matter.
It's an incredible feeling. Feeling like you matter. Especially from those who matter to you.
For example, if my dad said I mattered I would probably not believe him. It still doesn't matter if I don't believe him or not, if he thinks I matter I obviously matter. If it were my mom saying it to me, then I would matter. I would think I would matter. Because I trust my mom enough to not lie to me and tell me I matter.
I trust Aaron. I probably shouldn't, but I do. Maybe it's because he's the opposite of what I am. He's the polar opposite in so many ways. But in some ways he's just like me. That's what I like about Aaron. He's not like me, but he is like me.
He loves cheesy and romantic movies. He loves all the 'I love you to the moon and back' shit. He loves the constant reassurance and love that comes with relationships. He loves relationships even though he's never had a girlfriend. It doesn't make sense to me.
I hate it. I hate the cheesy stuff. Although I constantly said it to Jackson. The only reason I ever said it to him was because I wanted him to like me. When Maggie first introduced me to him, she wanted me to like him so much. She wanted him to like me so much. We were basically forced into a relationship.
We had a routine Jackson and me. We would say I love you without meaning it. We knew we didn't mean it. It wasn't a problem because we wanted Maggie happy. Eventually throughout the years we began to love each other. For whatever reason. We created another routine. We would mean the I love you's. I would care for him. I loved him. I trusted him. Maybe more than I should've.
I knew from day one he would never like me as much as I love him. Loved him.
But I did love Jackson. I did care for him. I did trust him. Now everything that has to do with love makes me sick. And I still need to keep this up for two weeks.
-
Aarons POV
I've always been one for romantic gestures. I've always been one for love. All the girls I've met been one for the thought of love, but Cassandra. She isn't one for it.
She doesn't like romantic gestures. She doesn't like love. She doesn't like cheesy pick up lines. Which is insane because who doesn't like cheesy pick up lines.
I hate Jackson for destroying her perspective in love. Love isn't the bare minimum. Love is so much more than the bare minimum. Love is cheesy pick up lines, picnic dates, movie nights, making love and not just fucking, caring for the other person more than you do for yourself, loving that person for who they're, and thinking that they are just perfect.
Perfection. It's what Cassandra is. Perfection.
Jackson didn't even give her the bare minimum. He gave her commitment issues. He gave her calls in the middle of the night. He gave her cheating on women every single night. He gave her the absolute worse.
Jackson doesn't deserve Cassandra. It's incredibly unbelievable that they both ended up together.
I hate that I can't give Cassandra what she needs. I hope in the future I can. I hope I can give her all the romantic gestures, cheesy pick up lines, picnic dates, movie nights, skinny dipping is a must, and most importantly I hope I can give Cassandra her self back. She needs to love herself before she can ever start loving anyone else. AKA me.
-
authors note:
hey guysssss 🫶 obviously i will be giving y'all more aaron povs!!!!!!! and posting more hopefully!!!! thank you for reading the story guys!!! i do have some idea of what the characters look in my mind if you guys want to I can post them so you guys can have an idea of what they look like in my mind? just comment lol. anyways thanks for reading the story again. and vote please :))
edit: 2/2/23
i love, love.