Precious Young Thing

sweet talkin' woman

eeeeeevnin! lovely little update for you all. this chapter is a little cheeky, and i seriously hope you enjoy the incoming spice! love you all 🤍
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James unlocked his car expertly; keys jingling he ran round to the opposite side to politely pull open the door of the Blue Chevy for Melody. She sunk into the seat and the door clamped shut, James then lumping himself in the driver's side. Ensuring authoritatively that the girl had fastened her seatbelt, and her obliging, James flipped the engine.

Gliding through the streets, Melody rolled down her window and allowed herself to meet the rush of cool air riding through her hair; tasseled locks flying behind her, and bare face complimented by the luminous glow of sun. It was radiating upon her. James continuously caught glimpses of her out the corner of his piercing eyes. Her flashing smile was wonderful: enchanting him briefly when he'd sneak a fast look at the girl.

"Do you have to go home?" Melody chimed through his daydream, her eyes examining the blissfully quiet neighbourhood: she wasn't often awake early enough to immerse herself in the town at the crack of dawn.

With his eyes still leering at the road ahead of him, James tapped his rough fingers against the steering wheel. He bit back him bottom lip and furrowed his brows as he thought for a time: he shouldn't, and he couldn't. James' obligations pricked his brain like tiny knives, each slowly leaking into the forefront of his mind. "I do," He spat reluctantly. "And so should you before anyone wakes up."

Melody turned to him as they slowed to a halt at a red street light that began glaring at them angrily. She let out a sigh, and pouted her lip: doe-eyes blaring innocence, and naivety in the sweet gleams of the morning. James began to frown. "Are you sure?"

"I'm positive." He grit his teeth as he spoke, eyeing the streetlight hanging aimlessly above them. James didn't falter, gaze remaining straight. "Besides, if you don't go home now then your father won't ever let you out again."

"He thinks I'm staying with Wanda anyways." The girl brought her shoulders together, tucking them into the crooks of her neck. Examining James' expression for any inkling he may want to continue their wild night, she was unsuccessful. "I left him a note."

"How responsible." Tucking his humidity puffed behind his ears, James quirked a brow. He then tucked a cigarette between his teeth and lit it, cautiously unwinding the window with his spare hand. "You didn't tell them where you went last night?"

Melody shook her head, licking her teeth spitefully. "I was with good boy Steve, they probably thought we went to a diner for dinner or something."

"Surely they'd know?" James continued, taking a drag of his smoke. "Like when Steve went home, he must've said something? Done something? He's a pretty hard-to-miss sort of guy, especially when he's falling everywhere?"

"Nah, they'd have been flat out." She wafted her hand dismissively at the man, who's brows now threaded together forming a blunt frown. "I can already tell you how it went down."

James noticed the light switch to green and put his foot down on the gas: he steered one handed, removing his cigarette with the other and held it between two large fingers. "How would you get away with it then? Enlighten me, Rogers."

"My Dad would've gotten home from the bar at about eight, probably stinkin' drunk and Mom would've already been in bed to avoid it." As Melody explained James found himself chewing on the inside of his cheek roughly. "Steve would've probably had a few drinks with my Dad, they had a scrap, Steve went to bed and my Dad fell asleep in the tub chair downstairs. If I was there I'd have snuck in through my window."

"If you'd have tried that last night it would've killed you." Was all he responded, respecting her openness. It was hard to hear her express herself so hurtful.