Categories > Original > Drama
Demolition Lovers
It's the dead of night, and she's wondering whether sneaking out with her boyfriend is really such a good idea. She's dressed in what she knows he likes - skintight black jeans, the ones with the rips in the knees, American flag shirt, converse. Her eyes are made up lightly, just enough to look pretty. A silver ring is pierced through the right side of her nose, and another is pierced through the left side of her lower lip. Her hair is mussed up and it does look like she's been freshly laid, but that doesn't really matter.
Her passport is clutched in her sweaty palm, and once again, she's wondering if this is a good idea. It's 11 PM at night. Her conscience is overbearing. She can't think. It's all a jumbled tangle of no, don't and come on, he's waiting for you. Without even thinking, she quietly opens the door, shuts it as quietly as possible behind her, and strides out into the moonlight. She spots him waiting by his car, a smirk on his lips. She breaks out into a sprint, running to him. He envelopes her in arms that smell of smoke and chlorine.
"Hey babygirl," he murmurs, tilting her chin up to look into her chocolate eyes, his hazel eyes offering warmth and comfort and love.
"Hey. How much longer?"
"Just a little bit." His eyes wander to where his long-haired brother is yelling at two small dogs to 'get inside the fucking house, you ass-licking, butt-munching motherfucking twats'. She laughs as she listens to his brother groan and continue yelling at the dogs.
"Ignore him, he's being a dumbass," he chuckles as he shepherds her into the car. She slides in, pulling him in after her. Most people would find it odd - an underage girl sneaking away for the night with a boy of almost 18, but that's what love does to you.
Everything's good now, and they're pulling away from the driveway, and she's beaming so wide. Her smile could melt the midnight sun. They're singing to crappy indie rock and roll, her hand is entwined with his, but they're happy.
That's all they need - happiness.
They're happy as their car collides with a brick wall.
They're happy as their blood spatters against the front seats.
They're happy as they're buried six feet under, hands and bodies entwined.
It's the dead of night, and she's wondering whether sneaking out with her boyfriend is really such a good idea. She's dressed in what she knows he likes - skintight black jeans, the ones with the rips in the knees, American flag shirt, converse. Her eyes are made up lightly, just enough to look pretty. A silver ring is pierced through the right side of her nose, and another is pierced through the left side of her lower lip. Her hair is mussed up and it does look like she's been freshly laid, but that doesn't really matter.
Her passport is clutched in her sweaty palm, and once again, she's wondering if this is a good idea. It's 11 PM at night. Her conscience is overbearing. She can't think. It's all a jumbled tangle of no, don't and come on, he's waiting for you. Without even thinking, she quietly opens the door, shuts it as quietly as possible behind her, and strides out into the moonlight. She spots him waiting by his car, a smirk on his lips. She breaks out into a sprint, running to him. He envelopes her in arms that smell of smoke and chlorine.
"Hey babygirl," he murmurs, tilting her chin up to look into her chocolate eyes, his hazel eyes offering warmth and comfort and love.
"Hey. How much longer?"
"Just a little bit." His eyes wander to where his long-haired brother is yelling at two small dogs to 'get inside the fucking house, you ass-licking, butt-munching motherfucking twats'. She laughs as she listens to his brother groan and continue yelling at the dogs.
"Ignore him, he's being a dumbass," he chuckles as he shepherds her into the car. She slides in, pulling him in after her. Most people would find it odd - an underage girl sneaking away for the night with a boy of almost 18, but that's what love does to you.
Everything's good now, and they're pulling away from the driveway, and she's beaming so wide. Her smile could melt the midnight sun. They're singing to crappy indie rock and roll, her hand is entwined with his, but they're happy.
That's all they need - happiness.
They're happy as their car collides with a brick wall.
They're happy as their blood spatters against the front seats.
They're happy as they're buried six feet under, hands and bodies entwined.
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