one-hundred-twenty-eight.

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DECEMBER 29TH, 1994, MOCLIPS, WA

        "LINDY, JUST GO to sleep. I promise I'll be fine," Kurt pleaded, attempting to snatch a glimpse over at Lindy while also maintaining sight of the dark road ahead of them. A faint drizzle of rain had started to come down, making it even harder to see out of the windshield and into the black night.

Lindy, who was curled up in the passenger seat, felt completely drunk off of her own tiredness. By the time that she and Kurt had driven through Olympia, her eyes had been bobbing and she'd stopped playing her and Kurt's game of song-word association. Either she or Kurt would select a random word off of the top of their heads, and the other would have to name a song with that word in it. It had all been quite fun until she'd started to feel drowsy.

Kurt, of course, had told her to go ahead and sleep, but she refused to allow him to be up all by himself.

"No," she mumbled into the crook of her elbow. "I'm not doing that to you. And it doesn't matter anyways, I just saw the sign for Moclips five minutes ago."

"How?" Kurt marveled. "I can barely see anything in this weather."

"Because I'm a good driver and you're not."

"Sure. As if we both wouldn't be dead by now if you were driving. You speed like fucking crazy."

"I've always got somewhere to be," Lindy jested back, parting her eyes and smiling sleepily over at Kurt. He turned to look at her, but bashfully averted his eyes as if he'd been caught looking when he wasn't supposed to be. His behavior reminded Lindy of the splashes of shyness he'd exhibited when they'd first met.

Eventually, using the map that was propped against the dashboard, Lindy and Kurt were able to locate Krist and Shelli's cabin. They had driven past it twice, making Lindy all the more grateful that she had remained awake to serve as an extra set of eyes. As they pulled up the weathered path, Kurt's yellow headlights flashed upon the cabin.

He uttered a low whistle.

"They weren't kidding when they said it was old," he said, seemingly curious about how such a place was still standing.

It was definitely no seaside mansion. The paneling on the outside was peeling and it looked like the wood deck had been ripped apart and haphazardly placed back together. Strangely enough, Lindy liked the place. It had charm.

"How did they even find it?" Lindy asked as Kurt came to a stop out front. He shut off the car.

"I dunno'. Krist is good at finding cool shit like this. He likes all that backwoods, out of the ordinary stuff."

"That's Krist alright," Lindy agreed, followed by a soft laugh. She began to open the car door, but Kurt grabbed her arm.

"Wait," he insisted. Tugging off the ratty cardigan he wore, he jumped out of the car and ran to the passengers side. With the grace of a gentleman, he opened the door for Lindy and positioned the cardigan precisely over her head, protecting her from the misty rainfall.

"Thanks," Lindy said, stepping out of the car and leaning in to kiss him. She hesitated before she got anywhere near close to his face, snagging her teeth on her lower lip to stop herself.

"I'll get our shit. You go inside, out of the cold," Kurt instructed. He handed the cardigan over to Lindy and in the wet drizzle, opened up the backseat of his Dart to collect their things.

Lindy hurried up the walkway to the front deck, her feet slipping against the thick, wet sand coating the path. Once under the protection of roofing, she lowered Kurt's cardigan and dug through her sweatpants pocket, trying to find Shelli's keys.

IN THE SUN ↝ kurt cobainWhere stories live. Discover now