His grin in the moonlight.
Handsome.
Insane.
He turns his head to give her what will become his trademark killer smile.
"Where to?"
While he drives, the beretta weighs heavily on her lap, the night on her mind.
She was taking him home.
Tyler, who she had no intelligent reason to trust, who had plainly admitted to her he was a predator.
She was taking him home.
Likely to her bed.
No, for certain to her bed.
And no voice presented itself within saying, stop, this is wrong.
This could end you.
Of course it could, but her gut was so much louder than her emotions, and it said...
See this through.
So here she was, riding shotgun in her own car, beside a man she packed a gun to meet.
Devouring his closeness ravenously.
Driving in the quiet, she sees him set his right hand on his thigh, but it's strained.
It's too far in her direction to be an absent minded action, and she's looking at it when he asks, "You're too quiet. Silence, at least with you, makes me jittery as fuck."
She has to smooth out her smile, calm her joy.
"I was thinking."
He rolls his eyes pleasantly, both too comfortable and amped with one another.
"Tell me?"
It's a little stern, like he's really asking what's bothering you is bothering me.
She shifts her own left hand, just so, it's unconscious, but after she catches it she lets it go.
Testing.
And sure enough, doesn't his pinkie twitch?
"You want to hold my hand."
She tells him, and swallows in what feels like an audible fashion.
He snorts softy, eyes tighten fast then find the road again.
"Yeah, I'm not going to break my promise though."
It's said smoothly, his eyes lit like he was tempting him with an apple, but she can see part of him is warning both of them it won't work.
"Have you ever broken a promise before?"
She's slipping too fast to stop herself, and he's responding with nearly no thought, "Not to you."
She stares at him.
Trying to understand.
What is it about you I can't walk away from?
That I might allow myself to die over?
He's feeling her eyes in his skin and enjoying it, but also can't handle it.
Too intimate.
"That's not all you were thinking."
She doesn't move, "No. It wasn't."
She waits a few seconds, sees the T in the road approaching and mechanically tells him, "Right." before deciding what to admit.
"I'm trying to figure you out. Or, trying to figure me out."
This makes him happy.
His chest inflates smoothly before releasing the air in a sure fashion.
"Your trying to analyze your attraction... mine to you? It's simple."
She is unable to pull her gaze away, "Is it?"
He shakes his head, "You already have an idea, I can tell."
She's turning her head before asking her next question.
"I want to hear it from you first."
He turns to her slightly, "Honestly?"
She doesn't look at him, slightly flushed and he has to remind himself to watch the road.
"You color so nicely when your anxious."
He murmurs.
It's hungry and she feels her belly tighten at his words.
"I said men are wolves? Some women are too. Not all men, very few women."
She has to swallow, shifts in her seat.
His voice, his hands on her steering wheel, the pale skin of his throat.
It's like she's addicted to him as hasn't had a single taste.
She realizes he's waiting for her to speak, "I'm a wolf then?"
She manages, voice too low and she tries to quietly clear her throat, he hums at this.
Happy to see how she warms to him.
"You're no lamb, though you look it."
After he says this he's suddenly looking at her in a strange way, and she sees it from her peripheral, understands right away and can't meet that look.
It's a tiny peek of what's hiding within him.
She's certain it was him in confusion that she might actually be dangerous to him.
And he let's it pass within that minute, back to his erie ease.
"I had a friend once I wrote to," she starts, and he raises an eyebrow but it's only teasing, "Not like with you." She mouths and he finds his smirk again.
"I was dating a guy at the time, a decent guy, but there was no spark, no pull, and as badly as I didn't want to admit it I knew it was my fault."
He could cut her off, tell her he's sure that's not true.
That's polite conversation and they don't have that.
It's all flat.
Honest.
"I asked my friend, could a Raven be happy with a Robin?"
She has to pause speaking this aloud.
It's hard, the memory.
He had warned her, and it was exactly as she feared.
"He said no." Tyler is certain.
His hand on the wheel, car lights pass and reflect in his eyes, lighting the windshield.
She smiles softly, "He said, for a little while."
He loses his smile, thinking.
"And you tried, even though you knew."
She inhales deep.
Blinking in ache over the loss.
"I thought I could be normal."
He's stopping the car slowly at the yellow light, he would have made it under.
He's purposely giving her words their moment.
