𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖘𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖒 | d.f. |

🌹 soraya17 🌹

***lyrics changed to fit the scenario***

[ 1:42 AM ]

dominic and i ask ren and preston for the nearest bus station. with much apprehension; not convinced that dominic's my boyfriend; they eventually give us a direction.

we walk silently in that direction.

the night is still, silent, and humid. a dangerous combination for a few young adults trying to make their way to a bus station.

streetlights light our way in a simple pattern on the road.

"what time is it?" i speak up.

he pulls his phone out of his pocket and presses the home button.

"1:42."

i watch him press the power button, the light from his screen cutting off.

we're idiots.

"we need to toss our phones. whoever took alex, must be watching us. our phones are dead giveaways."

"but how will i get in touch with apple?"

"we'll get burners."

i grab my phone from my back pocket. i smash it on the ground, stomping on it a few times before picking it up and throwing it into the nearest set of trees with all my force.

"okay well let's hurry so she can call me if she needs me," he says nervously. he smashes his phone and throws it, it flying significantly farther than mine.

where it landed? i couldn't tell you.

"what did you do before we decided to go on the run?" i converse, setting my hands in his hoodie pockets with the sleeves rolled up on my arms.

"mm, i wanted to be a rapper. seems like the industry is going to be in shambles though."

"a rapper?" i chuckle.

"what's funny?" he asks.

"nothing. i mean, you fit the aesthetic of underground rapper."

"i don't know. i think i'm pretty good," he shrugs confidently.

"big talk," i smirk. "spit something off the dome. subject: nite's motel."

he's silent for a few minutes.

"okay:

three nights at the motel
under streetlights
in the city of wrongs
call me what you want when you want if you want
and you can call me names if you call me up

feel like the least of all your problems
you can reach me if you wanna stay up tonight
stay up at night
red lights in your body language
seems like you could use a little company from me
but if you got everything figured out like you say

i don't know," he chuckles.

i clap at him, noticing the little jabs at me.

"i'm impressed," i smile.

"that's not even my best but thank you. kind of sucks i won't be able to get on a stage and hear people screaming my name. what about you?"

"i used to do this from home job. I couldn't do it from home so i went to the library mostly."

"library? wouldn't have pegged you the quiet type."

"because i'm black?" i retort.

"what? no. because you were a bitch when we met."

i push him, he laughing.

"i have my moments," i shrug.

"how are you feeling?" he asks in a hushed tone.

"hmm," i respond. "getting to your little sister is the only motivating factor of keeping me moving and thinking. i'll be fine though."

"do you genuinely care?"

"you and your family are all i have left," i shrug.

he grabs my hand in his. intertwining our fingers. a shock sends up my arm to my shoulder.

i want to hate it. it's stupid shit like hand holding that confuses people that aren't on my level of thinking. and even though i hate it, i get a sense of enjoyment from it. i don't even know if that's me that likes this feeling. i would never. yet, here i am.

right now, things feel torn. i don't want to rely on him or even think anything emotional near him, but my choices of what i want to do don't match the way my body reacts to him.

maybe i should stick around. my support team was reeves and the only other close person to me was my mother. both are gone.

i don't know.

we make it to the bus station around 3:30. we buy a burner phone and two bus tickets to lousiana instead of straight to florida to throw off scents. we board our bus around 4:15.

we settle in our seats and wait.

"we'll be to apple hopefully by tomorrow night," i tell him, placing my bag in between my legs.

"i'm ready," he nods.

i grab his hand, ignoring the side of me that doesn't like affectionate shit and give him a smile.

to florida.