Outside her window, cars inched forward in the traffic jam. Sitting next to her, he absent-mindedly brushed lightly against her denim-clad thigh as his hand shifted the gear-stick. She felt a tiny surge of thrill, as he touched her, but she resolutely looked out of her window still. She wondered if he'd notice her curiosity in the world outside and ask her existential queries. Any question, actually. She might have as well been wishing for unicorns to dance for her.
The silence in the car was heavy, though she heard him hum an unfamiliar tune under his breath. It had been a minute since either of them cracked a terrible joke or said something uninteresting. It felt like years were rushing by. She wished he would hold her hand while the traffic wasn't moving. Or, maybe she could reach out to hold his: that was acceptable too, wasn't it? But, only if the traffic wasn't moving. That way, she could stop feeling guilty for being the cause of a probable accident.
Which song is this? It sounds lovely! You should ask him. Go on. Ask him. She glanced at him. He fussed with his hair, his foot tapping impatiently against the accelerator. He was clearly unaware of her looking at him. She wished she could say those words out loud. It would make a conversation at the very least, don't you think?Ask him about that perfume, why don't you? You should probably think of getting a bottle for yourself. Or, is that too creepy? She sighed out loud and silently gagged her mind. Unsuccessfully. Nice try.
"Do you want to get some beer?"
His voice startled her out of her reverie. Oh my, did he actually talk to you?
He looked at her with what she hoped was enthusiasm. Speak, idiot. Speak.
"Yes! I'd love to!" Great. Now you need to be drunk to say anything to him? Just great! Drunkard! She wished she knew how to shut up the mean inner voice.
"Great!" See even he thinks it's great you need alcohol to make conversation. "I know a place right around the corner." Okay. He's just saying that to hide his disgust.
She returned to her silent watch of the cars that wouldn't move, and he to his sweet humming. I'm never going to get that tune out of my head. You have to find out what it is! Come on!
She took a deep breath, taking a few seconds to formulate the question. It felt like she had forgotten the right words. How is this even hard for you? You've brought politicians to their knees. Okay, ONE politician. Wannabe politician. But, THIS is a simple city boy. Ugh. Seriously. I'M disgusted with you. Maybe you DO need that beer after all.
She ignored the rant. "Hey! That sounds really good, what song is it?" Now, was that really so hard?
He smiled at her. "You like it? It's a song I'm currently writing." He gave a short snort. "Maybe it won't be as good as you think it is now." She fell in love with that laugh. She wanted to hear it again. If only you were magic, you could make him laugh at your lameness.
"Are you kidding? I'm sure it'll come out well!" Yuck. Suck up to him, why don't you. "Why don't you sing some of it now, I could tell you if it's nice?" Oooh. Smooth. She patted herself on her back. Not.
He looked a little hesitant. Maybe he needs the beer more than you do. She laughed silently at that. "Come on, I'd love to hear it!"
He chuckled a bit, looking awkward. "Oh, alright. Here goes nothing." He cleared his throat and began to sing a melodious song, better than she had heard in a while. Something was off, though. It sounded incredibly sad for the mood. Who is he singing about? Who sings about a missing key to a lock, anyway?
He finished a verse of his song, looking shyly at her for feedback. She searched for the right compliment to pay him.
"Who was that about?"
He looked awkward, again, chuckling a lot more. It sounded nervous. She didn't think he knew how to be nervous. "That was, uhm, about..." He shot her a pleading look, begging her to understand.
She felt confused. What is that supposed to mean? ASK HIM AGAIN!
Sighing with resignation, he looked away. "My ex-girlfriend." Uhm, WHUT. Her eyes were growing rounder by the second as she stared at him.
"Yeah, I kind of wrote that about her."
Didn't he break up with her two years ago? "Wasn't she your girlfriend till about two years ago?" Or was he lying? Or was he...
"Yeah." His sheepish look was back in full force, as he avoided her stare. Oh, dear God.
She didn't know it was possible to feel sorry for this man. He was perfect till that second. Stop feeling sorry, idiot. Get out of here A-S-A-P! Oh, yeah. That.
"Oh. That's...weird. But, the song was good!" Now. Before the beer. "So. I, uhm..."
"You want me to drop you home, instead?" Hallelujah. Who would have thought? He understands.
"Yes, please!" I'd love to keep you around as a friend, though. You're gorgeous. You're useful. You have a car.
She let out a tiny laugh, feeling completely at ease. Nice to know you're not the only dork around, huh.