I Hate The Patriots

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I feel safety fall over me as the two of us sit in the silence instead of talking, but the music is still playing the background. As Brixton gets back onto the road, my hands travel down the black leather interior. This car is so fucking hot. I love this car, and I've only been sitting in it for like five minutes. 

I look at the dashboard, totally enticed by the whole set up. I can feel Brixton's eyes on me as I gawk at his car. Soon, not getting bored but not wanting to invade his privacy, I stop being a weirdo. Instead, I turn my head out towards the window, so I can watch as cars and buildings pass by.

"You know it's okay if you want to look through my car."

"Oh, don't worry about it. I'm being a total freak."

"No, you aren't. I got the car, so it would be looked at. Plus, I've seen your car. Are you into cars?"

"I'm pretty passionate about them. I could talk for hours on end about one company."

"How long have you been into them?"

"For as long as I can remember. My grandpop was an auto mechanic, and Danny used to work with him. I would always hang out there, help fix cars, talk to customers, and ask a ton of questions. I remember the first time I got to see a new engine put in and the car start to run. It was the most satisfying thing. Ever since then, putting together cars, learning about them, looking at them, and whatever else...I've been working on cars. I love watching people try out their newly working and running car."

"You really do like it. Do a lot of people know that?"

"No, but now you do. It brings me great joy and tranquility to work on a car because they mostly run the same. You know the basics and things build off of that."

"You find a calmness in it then."

"Yeah. You'll probably see me working on my car pretty soon."

"I'm sorry about that. I should have known."

"You couldn't have, Brixton. Don't worry about it. Money's a little tight, but I'll make it work. What sucks the most was that the burgundy paint was original from 1975. My grandpop drove in the original paint."

"That sucks, and if there's anything I can do..."

"No, no."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. You have your own things to worry about. Like not cheating on your girlfriend."

"I would never."

"Oh, I'm sure. You don't have to lie to me, idiot."

"Have you lied to me yet?"

"Not so far. I don't really want to."

"Good. I haven't lied to you either."

"That's good to know."

Brixton pulls into the side of the street.

"Are we here?"

"Yeah, but we're going to have to walk a little. Is that alright?"

"Of course. I don't mind. As long as you tell me where to go."

Brixton smiles at me before turning off the purring engine of the car. I pout as the sound disappears, making Brixton chuckle at my attitude. He nods in agreement but doesn't say anything to comfort me. I try to reach for the passenger door handle.

"No. Don't you dare touch the handle."

"What?"

Before I get an answer, Brixton has moved around the back of the car. I grin widely at the fact that he wanted to open my door for me. I hear the pop of the door, and it swings open, revealing a bashful smile on his face. I giggle softly as he takes my hand, helping me out of the car. 

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