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Post by steph3 on Nov 27, 2011 20:22:49 GMT -5
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She was freaking out and if he wasn't the person he was, Dom would have tossed her out of the window just so he could get some quiet. The racket was unbearable as he drove, at the speed limit, down a road in the countryside. He kept his hands firmly on the steering wheel and looked straight ahead, coming to the conclusion he was lost. One would think he had a GPS but that meant getting tracked down easier and he wasn't about to deal with that all over again. As she seemed to continue freaking out, he stopped the car abruptly and looked right at her. Normally, it took a lot to make his patience run so thin, but he didn't like yelling. That was probably something that drove him up a wall-a weakness in his decent guy persona, "Calmate! Can you do that for at least five minutes because your freaking out made me lose track of where we were going and now we're lost," he snapped it at her in one long breathe, and he took in a deep one to relax himself before he looked back at the road and the very few lights on them. It went straight in either direction for what looked like miles and it was the middle of the night. He didn't want to end up pepper sprayed yet again and this situation with her freaking out didn't help him.
It was a freakin' race. One. Race. He didn't even think they were going that fast considering they had started at the top of a parking garage and then made their way out onto the streets. He'd won, naturally, and his friend had been at the finish line to collect the winning car and he would be getting his money in the morning since that was when the car was going to be cashed in. It really wasn't a big deal. No one died, that he knew of, and it had been him against just one other car. Normally there was a good three or four so it really was nothing. He'd found her walking home from work, he asked her if she needed a lift but that he had to take car of his own "job" along the way. They'd gotten out of the car only briefly for him to make the deal with the other driver at the parking garage full of other cars and other barely dressed bombshell women (mostly for show), shake on it, and then start the race by a set of twins tossing their bras into the air. No big deal. It was what he did for a living and it didn't bother him one bit. He'd gotten them out of there without a single scratch, right?
He managed to calm himself down enough to put his high beams on so he could see exactly where they were as he looked out the window. He didn't like this area. He was used to the city, practically thrived in it. Being out in the country made him feel exposed and uncomfortable. Jesus Christ. If she freaked out anymore, he swore on his life, mentally, that he would just leave her there and not bother with her again. Every time all he tried to do was help her out and she seemed to ruin it somehow but their last meeting wasn't his fault. She walked into the door. The door didn't walk into her. And if she pulled pepper spray out on him again, he was going to kick her out of the car and not feel guilty about it...
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made by rockie at caution
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Post by lou on Nov 27, 2011 22:34:54 GMT -5
she's wearing this.
It was the kind of hot that put New York City in the summer to shame. The kind of dry heat California was famous for, burning through everything she owned and relegating her to flushed pink cheeks and a damp hairline. Working hadn't exactly been a ball. Her uniform was a veteran, and it clung to her tiny body in all the wrong places, making her look like a foolish girl dressed up in mommy's clothing, and especially because she was forced to move through the packed restaurant like a lithe snake through the grass, balancing everybody's orders on her tray and dealing out cups like she'd been born to whip out plastic from nowhere. Aunt Greta had warned her about these summers before she'd come, promising she'd go crazy in the stillness of the evening air, and even Zach was feeling mildly insane, his tanned skin pink under the dim lighting of their apartment. No one was particularly pleased this time around. It left her feeling remotely anxious and aggravated – or at least, more so than usual – as she made her way home from the restaurant to the dinky, un-airconditioned apartment. It put her in the mood to accept a ride from Ted Bundy if he were to offer it; that was part of the reason she got into the car with Dom, and the other part was this strange compulsion to make up the fact that she'd pepper sprayed him intentionally and walked away while he'd hit her accidentally in the face with the door and he'd stayed around to help. It was so unlike her to be so cruel to someone she didn't know, and likewise she was unsure of what it was precisely about him that chafed her so, but it had immediately set her off and she wasn't quite sure how to go about rectifying her mistake. So she got in the car.
And then all thoughts of relief and relaxation ended as he said he had some kind of job to do, and literally involved her in an illegal street race where the risks including dying, serious injury, or being arrested. Or all three. It was why she was still yelling, at no on in particular, as they sped through the streets, and why she was so busy telling him exactly how stupid he was and why didn't she get out of the car and actually, why did she get in the car to begin with, and is this what he thought was fun that she forgot to realize they were going out of the city and didn't notice exactly how lost they were until there was nothing around them for miles except shrubs and grass, and more shrubs, and more grass. No one had ever been such a threat to her safety before; it made her unsettled to think that there was someone who could literally turn her world upside and he didn't even know her name, or how old she was, and she didn't know his. They hadn't bothered exchanging any of that information to date, what with the mace and then the door and now this, this metal death trap. She was midway through complaining that Zach didn't make enough money to give her a decent funeral when he stopped the car, which would have been enough to shut her up, and proceeded to tell her they were lost. And that it was her fault. Which, frankly, didn't make much sense, considering he was driving and she was sure he hadn't been listening to her extended list of grievances – a list she probably wouldn't have listened to either had it not been herself spouting it off.
“How did you get lost going up the street?” she questioned, dubious, personally having no clue where they were because she hadn't been paying attention much either and she typically didn't go outside of the city, save when other people drove. She didn't have a car, she didn't typically need to be good with directions. That said, she never got lost on the straight shot up the street from Five Guys to their dinky apartment, through the park, the blue light shining from the TV like it always was. It was with this navigational ease that she decided walking home would probably be the best course of action. “Actually, never mind. Thanks for the ride, good sir.” pushing open the door, she stepped out, the first breeze in what felt like days stirring the stagnant air around her hair and shifting a few strands about her features. She debated briefly which direction to go in, and decided finally on going the direction away from where his car was facing. Back where they'd come from, hopefully. If anything, she still had her mace, though there was only half a can left.
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Post by steph3 on Nov 27, 2011 22:51:46 GMT -5
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Annoying...frustrating...
If he was depressed or easily moody, he would contemplate suicide.
Dom had always known women were complicated. His mother was complicated, his past (though few) girlfriends were all complicated, his older brother's bitch was complicated, the whore down the block was complicated. But she topped them all. He'd been stupid enough to listen to her rambling on because, well, Dom knew better than to not listen to a woman. Her wrath was worse than anything imaginable so he'd rather pay attention than just write her off. God forbid he'd need any of that information for future reference and who the hell was this Zach guy she kept yammering about? He sounded like he needed to grow up...even if it was by a year or two.
As she got out of the car, he grumbled with the closing of the door. She was really going to give up air conditioning for the outside world that barely had a breeze or two to offer? " Me va matar esta loca, lo juro," he muttered to himself as he easily whipped the car around and came up next to her with his window down. He looked over at her since he really wasn't going to hit anything out there, "It wasn't a straight line," he mentioned, "It was on the other side of town, remember?" he took a few deep breathes to calm down, keeping the car going at the same pace she was walking, stopping whenever necessary. He wasn't going to let a chick, no matter what she looked like, walk down a very dark country road in the middle of the night. What kind of guy was he if he just let her go and then in the morning he saw her body turned up and he could have done something to prevent it, "Look, I got lost because I was listening to you go on and on about that Zach guy and your job and the heat and how much of a dumb ass I am," he was trying to reason with her, "Can you just get in the car? Last thing we both need is for you to wind up dead on the side of this road or something," he really was trying here. As much as she was frustrating him, he really wouldn't like to see her dead or even hear of her being dead.
It had nothing to do with her quirky looking face or how shrill her voice tended to get when she made certain comments about nothing in particular, "And before you go on thinking I'm going to kill you, I'm Dominic," he looked right at her, "Not sir," that sir sounded way too formal. Hell, he'd give her his full name if she wanted. He didn't care if he got her name or not. He just needed her to get in the car so he could find their way back and leave her at her place so he can go do whatever it was he needed to do. Hell, at this point he couldn't even remember. No one, and he meant no one, knew how to drive his patience like this chick.
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made by rockie at caution
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Post by lou on Nov 28, 2011 22:11:23 GMT -5
she's wearing this.
There wasn't anyone around for miles. To think it was possible for her to die at the hands of someone else when they were in this netherworld full of absolutely nothing save probably snakes and maybe some rabbits but definitely every fucking shrub known to mankind and then some and a couple different species of grass, was a relatively ridiculous sentiment. Just like in the park, when the only person to protect herself from was the one handing her the method of protection, here she was with no one else around to hurt her. She stopped walking, looked at the car for a second, and then continued, talking to him through the window as he rolled along beside her as though it was a completely normal thing to disregard the car in favor of her feet. She'd always enjoyed the value of a good long walk anyway and didn't mind the heat as long as the gentle breeze continued to blow, which it appeared to be doing thus far. That said, driving was much faster and she did want to be home, in bed, sleeping away the headache that was beginning to bloom.
She was stubborn. Painfully so. To the point where, in order to prove a point, she was more than willing to inflict pain or irritation upon herself, and she was at that moment where it would be something of a defeat to comply with what he was asking her to do. Introducing himself was a nice touch, as was mentioning everything she'd been talking about – after all, she probably would have kicked herself out of the car after two minutes of that kind of complaining – but it didn't really do much in the way of changing her mind. “Well Dominic,” she paused here, lingering, one foot hovering slightly above the ground, the edges of her blouse ruffling up to reveal a thin sliver of pale skin along the band of her shorts. Weighty deliberation was never her strong suit, she was always more of an impulsive action-oriented individual and it pained her to think things through. “Maybe if you would stop trying to kill me, I'd start to believe you.” she said, absently rubbing her nose where it was still vaguely tender with one hand while she opened the door to the car with the other, pushed the button all the way down so the window was completely open, and got back inside.
“Anyway, I'm sorry for distracting you.” quietly, perhaps even with a mouselike undertone, she sniffed and dropped both hands to rest listlessly in the cradle of her lap, raising an eyebrow in his direction so that when she turned her face to look at him he probably had a decent guess at what to expect. “I'll be quiet this time.” though it would be an effort, because there was something about him that made her cringe and want to rebuke everything he said or did with some kind of negative command or action. Typically she was by far less neurotic and whiny and childlike, but she was beginning to think that with everyone else she was forced into this mold of independent, family-oriented self-sufficient woman and he just brought out the worst tendencies and magnified them to run together all at once. Adjusting herself in the seat so her head was lying against lowered window, she closed her eyes against the breeze and patiently waited for the return trip to begin./justify]
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