14. 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦

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CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
tensions arise.

Angeline's silent treatment was becoming torturous for not only the young brunette but the man in the driver's seat himself. His body language gave nothing away, but secretly, Mitch wanted her to say something. Anything.

She hadn't said anything since the gas station, and they'd been back on the road for hours heading east. Mitch drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and glanced at all of the scenery around them to pass time, but deep down he knew he'd much rather be listening to Angeline rant about taxing the rich or something.

The teenage girl was bursting at the seams as well. She was fidgeting in the seat, her legs coming up and down, her arm against the window one moment and then fiddling with her t-shirt the next. Angeline tried to sleep, but her naps were short and only lasted half an hour at the max. The more she thought about it-- and boy did she have a lot of time to think-- the more she thought that maybe Mitch was right about her having ADHD or something.

It made a lot of sense. It justified why she was such a huge 'blabbermouth' and the way she always had to be doing something, even when she was growing up. That was why she knew how to do so many things, like ballet or karate or swimming. Angeline had been one of those kids that could never just sit down and watch the television-- she was either transforming cardboard boxes into cars and castles or begging to attend a new after school club to avoid feeling bored.

When Mitch pulled over at around nine in the morning to fill the car with gas, Angeline climbed out to stretch her legs. The sun was hot on her face and she moved to the bathrooms which were unlocked, taking her toothbrush and some face stuff with her. Perhaps it was pretty 'princess' of her to do this whilst on the run, but if she had the time and the products, Angeline would find a way. Nothing pissed her off like flaky skin.

The door burst open whilst Angeline had a toothbrush hanging out of her mouth and her facewash on her skin, making her pause. Mitch looked unsettled until his hazel eyes landed on her.

"You can't just walk away like that," the man muttered, entering the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. "You need to tell me if you're going to do something, right?"

Angeline stared at him for a few seconds before she finished up brushing her teeth and spat the paste out, rinsing her brush. She chucked water over her face to get rid of the face wash and then pumped some moisturiser into her hands.

"You could do with some of this," Angeline grumbled as she looked in the mirror, applying it to her dewy skin.

Mitch seemed genuinely offended, folding his arms across his chest as his nose scrunched up. At first, he couldn't believe that this was the first thing she would say to him after such a long time, and then he remembered who he was dealing with.

"I'm a man," Mitch stated. "I don't wear makeup."

"It's a good thing that it's not makeup then, huh?" Angeline rolled her brown eyes. "It's called moisturiser. Skincare doesn't have a gender-- neither does makeup, by the way."

The dark-haired man fell silent and he sighed gently. "Are you finished?" He asked, tone softer than she had heard it in ages.

Angeline nodded a little and he pushed open the door, holding it open so she could walk under his arm to leave. The brunette had changed into a Motel Rocks tea dress that reminded her of something from an 80s film, her black cycling shorts peeking out underneath it. She was glad that amongst the chaos she had coincidentally managed to pick this dress up-- it was loose, so it was good for the Californian weather she was suffering in.

𝐂𝐑𝐘𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 | mitch rappWhere stories live. Discover now