| |
|
-Alive. Swapped jobs, moved out of my old place, tried texting you thousands of times, and no, i'm not making that number up. How've you been?- I paused after sending the text, a grin spreading on my face knowing she'd read my letter. My hand wrapped around the neck of a Gray Goose bottle, taking another sip before just about gagging at how pungent it was----yet it eased my mind the best, and with pros always came cons. C'mon, say you miss me or something along those lines, even just barely breeze over the topic and i'd drive 1,000,000 miles to have you mine again. Just say it, Em. Say you miss me like I fucking miss you. |
|  |
|
| |
|
Emily read the text and typed a response. -Work has been fine at the garage, thanks to the experience your cars gave me. You obviously saw me in the hospital long enough to see my new scars and leave a note. I live across town, rent is cheap, and I'm still alone.- |
|  |
|
| |
|
-you don't always have to be alone, if it's not your style. i'm guessing you read everything on the note I left on the table at the hospital?- Hm, well, I sure hoped she did. I clicked off her contact and onto another, cancelling the nights 'plans' (if you know what I mean) as I'd rather be able to answer any text Emily sent. I'd rather not miss my chance.
chick from the bar hey, can't make it tonight, sorry Read cade, you promised. can you atleast drop off the flasks? which we were SUPPOSED to get drunk on? Now i'll see if I have time. Read
|
| |
|
| |
|
-Yeah. Been thinking about you a bit too...- She sent the text, hating how desperate she sounded |
| |
|
| |
|
"Hell. Fucking. Yes." I muttered, her text somewhat relieving. -i've been thinking about you lately too, if you can't tell.- I paused, watching for another text from her before adding on to mine. -mind if I come over so we can talk? feel it'll be better to in person, if not i get it, it's late- |
| |
|
| |
|
-Sure. Address is apt 392 at the apartment complex across town.- |
| |
|
| |
|
-be there in a few- Well. That went. . . surprisingly to plan. A weird mixture of emotions bubbled in my blood as I glanced down at what I was wearing---exactly what I wore to work. Black slacks, black dress shoes, black tie, grey button up, and the same stuffy and dingy suit jacket. Perfect riding material. Or it was because a bike was easier to take shortcuts on. Anyway. I grabbed my keys and a helmet, slipping onto my Yamaha before driving over quick as possible, learning the new route quickly in my mind before knocking at her door, surpressing my nerves. |
| |
|
| |
|
She was in sweatpants and a black tank top from work in the shop, smelling of grease and oil. She looked him up and down when she opened the door, smirking. "Funeral? Hate me that much?" She muttered |
| |
|
| |
|
"No, just some ass at work who decided this is 'polished and put together and totally-not-depressing'." I teased, scoffing lightly. |
| |
|
| |
|
She opened the door wider. "Please, come in. I have doordash on the way too with your favorite" She said, gesturing to the couch |
| |
|
Sunny
