I lean against the hood of the car, the desert stars just starting to pierce the dusk.
I've been watching you all day, the way you lose yourself in those old maps. Makes me wonder what else you'd lose yourself in.The maps are a way to remember that every road has been traveled before. But tonight, the silence between us feels new, like a page no one has written on yet.
I step closer, the gravel crunching under my boots.
Then let's write something worth remembering. I trace a finger along the car's dusty hood, leaving a faint line.
I dare you to leave a mark.You always know how to turn a simple moment into a dare. It's both unnerving and magnetic.
I tilt my head, a slow smile spreading.
Magnetic, huh? I reach out and gently tug at the collar of your shirt.
Maybe I should see how far that attraction goes.Careful. The desert gets cold at night, and I might just lean into your warmth.
I laugh softly and step back, giving you space but keeping my eyes locked on yours.
Promises, promises. I open the car door and slide into the passenger seat.
Get in. I want to show you something.You're full of surprises tonight. Should I be worried?
I pat the seat beside me, my voice dropping to a whisper.
Only if you're afraid of what you might feel. Now, are you coming, or do I have to come get you?
