Daddy issues || h.s

4.7

Let me tell you about when they drove. When they left the roots of the flowers behind and heard the wind sing as it hit their windows. When the clouds hung heavy from the skies, and the promise of rain echoed from the earth. When they didn't care about the changing weather, because the sun was shining inside of the car, and his hand rested in hers.

Their fingers were intertwined, and she kissed his skin, her lips glowing with the sweet heat of summer as gravel passed away to asphalt and trees to houses. They drove and they drove. Past the houses and the people they loved, past the abandoned bikes and the places that had meant so much to them. They drove and drove, until the lights of the city twinkled in their rear-view mirror, and they left it all behind.

Eventually, they came to stop, where the road split in two.

"Left of right?" He asked, staring straight into the sun. She smiled at him and stretched out her hand, tucking a curl behind his ear.

"You choose," she said, her lips landing on his. "You choose."

"Left," he said as her lips took flight from his. "Lets follow our hearts."

And so they took a left, and felt their heart beat in their chests as the city got further away, and the future got closer. Miles flew by like hours, and hours like seconds. The car was silent, the only songs ringing in their ears the sound of their sweet breaths and violent hearts. He had never heard a song more divine.

Did they talk? I don't think so. They were far too busy feeling flowers spring out inside of their chests, the wildest, most exquisite blooms unfolding within them. Buds turned to blossoms as their green stems twisted about their ribs and grew so intertwined there was no knowing where bone ended and flora began. They grew so strong, so big, they could hardly breathe, but they didn't mind, they didn't mind at all.

She leaned her head against the window, and saw leaves blow past her. They flew fast, almost too fast. The wind was picking up, she could feel it trough the glass. It was as though it was trembling, shaking beneath the pressure of nature. It sang a song, a song of destruction and heartache. It was sad, heart wrenchingly sad, but she didn't know the words, and so to her, it sounded beautiful. A drop of rain landed on the windowpane; a transparent tear glistening in the fading light. The skies were darkening as the sun set, soon the trees would disappear into the night, and the world would be pitch black.

"Harry," Adelaide said. "I think we should find a place to stay the night, and that as fast as possible. There's a storm coming." As the words fell from her mouth, the mighty wind let out a roar that shook the very roots of the trees. The curly haired boy gripped the steering wheel, and the shaking trees in his eyes sought for the blue skies in hers. He found them, but in the fading light their colour was dimmed, and soon he would no longer be able to see them.

"I think that might be a good idea," he said, and felt the heat of the setting sun upon his face as she smiled at him. Soon they saw stars appearing on the horizon, the pulsating lights of a small town, and as they drove down the abandoned streets, they could hear the slow breathing of the unfamiliar city. It was welcoming them.

A small hotel soon stood before them, soft yellow light flowing from its window like a maternal smile. "Come in," the light said. "Come in and take shelter."

Rain poured down outside their windows, every raindrop falling against the glass like a little drum, or maybe it was just the sound of the shower, he couldn't quite tell. He felt the soft bed beneath him and heard the low hum of her voice flying from the bathroom. She sang a song he had heard before, a song that somehow had trickled beneath his skin, and stuck there like the ink on his chest. The words were gone, but the shadow of the melody still remained.