Page 17 of Draven
"Draven, thank you for being open with me. It couldn’t have been easy, laying your soul bare to a stranger you just met,” I said, my thumb tracing soft circles on his cheek.
Draven rested his hand over mine, his touch sending a shiver down my spine. With a tender gesture, he leaned forward, pressing his lips against my forehead.
He closed his eyes, and in that moment, he seemed utterly at peace.
"You're not a stranger," Draven whispered, his voice barely a breath.
My heart fluttered at his words, hoping for more but he left it at that.
“There's more, but I've hit my limit today when it comes to sharing," Draven said, opening his eyes to meet mine.
"That's fine with me," I replied, although a small part of me was still second-guessing my decision.
"I hope you don't regret this, Tobias," Draven said. "I'm...a mess right now, but I won’t be like this forever.”
"Well, who am I to judge? I'm not exactly perfect either," I said, offering him a reassuring smile.
My phone beeped, signaling the end of our precious moment.
"I need to head home, change, and head to work," I grumbled.
I momentarily debated taking the day off and offering to show Draven around town, but before I could speak, Draven spoke.
"I'll take you home,” he offered.
It then just occurred to me that I left my car parked at the roadhouse the night before. I groaned.
"What's wrong?" Draven asked, watching me with concern evident in his eyes.
"Uh, my car. I left it at the roadhouse," I said rather sheepishly, feeling a flush creeping up my neck.
"Then, shall we get it first?" Draven suggested.
I brightened up at that. "You don't mind?" I asked, pleasantly surprised.
"I have all the time in the world," he responded.
As Draven stopped the motorcycle, my heart sank when I saw the state of my car.
It was surrounded by shattered glass from the broken windows, with graffiti sprayed across its once pristine surface.
The tires were flat, slashed with deep cuts, and there were scratches and dents all over the body.
My stomach churned with anger and frustration. How could someone do this?
I felt a wave of embarrassment wash over me as Draven took in the scene.
I had brought him here to retrieve my car, expecting a simple errand, but now he was faced with this mess.
I couldn't help but feel ashamed that he had to witness the aftermath of such senseless destruction.
As I stepped closer to assess the damage, I couldn't bring myself to meet Draven's gaze.
A sickening realization dawned on me. Justin and his friends. It had to be them.
Their mocking gazes from the night before flashed through my mind.
Anger boiled inside me, hot and fierce. How could they do this? High school was ages ago. Shouldn’t Justin have moved on by now?