Supernova Souls - Ryan Upchurch

-45-

DELILAH'S POV

Just then, as if the radio was in sync with the vibe inside the car, the song switched to one of my all time favorites by George Strait. "Carried Away". He knows I love that song, and that I always have.
I remember the day I told him about my fondness for the song.
We were in my brown Silverado, making a trip to Tractor Supply because Ryan needed to pick up a few tools that were missing from his toolbox, and Mary Jane and Waylon were running low on dog food. Halfway there, "Carried Away" came on, which earned a shit eating grin from me. I sang along, twisting the lyrics so the song was a duet of me and George on the radio, my voice being overtaken by his. Ryan didn't sing, but he watched me. I could feel his heavy glare burning holes into the side of my head, but I couldn't be bothered to care if he thought I was stupid in the moment. Looking back, there are some things I would change about that day. Like how I wished I hadn't sang like nobody was watching me, and how I wish I hadn't acted like I was in an angsty music video. Ryan probably thought I was a crackhead from how I'd acted that day.

His lips curled, but it wasn't a full smile, and for a second I wondered if he'd planned out an entire playlist just for tonight. So far every song fit the man-made mood in the car down to every last detail, and each one had perfect timing. Hell, maybe he had this whole night planned out. Except the cop chase, I don't think that would've been on his list of things to do. I press my lips together gently and smile back at him, watching the moonlight shift on his flushed face, casting a pale neon glow over his skin. The pale glow of the moonlight only helped to accentuate his angelic, ice blue eyes, which I didn't think was possible. The moon's shimmering glow made them look like glass with a very slight blue tint to them. I had to look away before they put me in an inescapable trance. His reddish brown hair looks more copper than brown on the top, but the sides are a darker red-brown color. The faint waves are tousled, like he just rolled out of bed, not even bothering to finger-comb them before he left his house. He had on a baggy black t-shirt, one that looked soft to the touch and was hanging loosely from him. Again, he was wearing a pair of faded gray sweatpants tied around the waist.

I don't take my whiskey to extremes, don't believe in chasin' crazy dreams..

He presses his lips together and his half-assed smirk transforms into a smile directed at me, reaching his hand over the center console to grab mine. I let him, and intertwined our fingers. His hand was cold, like ice, but mine felt like it was on fire. I smile back, but don't let my teeth show. The gap between my two front teeth made me ashamed to let them show, especially in photos- when I was younger, my cousins and a couple of the kids at my school would make fun of me for it even though there was nothing I could've done. Still nothing I can do, really, we never have or had the money to waste on fixing small things like that. My dad would always build me up, telling me things like "I think it's beautiful," then ruffling my hair with his hand, or his favorite "your smile in beautiful, but they're too busy taking out their insecurities on you to see that". As little as those words may have seemed to him, they helped me more than he could ever imagine. Like he could read my mind, he gave my hand a comforting squeeze. For a second longer, I think about his ran-together words.

Willyoubemygirlfriend? He'd said, rather nervously. I'd never seen him look so vulnerable as I did then, nor have I seen him so excited and worried at the same time. It was cute, really. Seeing his eyes light up with the possibility of me saying yes, that small curve upwards on one side of his mouth that formed that cocky smirk of his, the pale blue of his eyes shift to an even prettier, brighter shade of blue..

"Fuck yes I will." My smile only grew as I spoke, and so did his. However, without thinking, I allowed my guard down and gave him a toothy grin, like one of a child getting a new toy they've been asking for, for months. His does the same, showing off the very small, almost unnoticeable gap in his own teeth that he'd gotten fixed before.