Didn't somebody ever tell you it's the journey, not the destination?
( it's a tease, a lilt in her voice that's a barely-there drawl, like warm honey and molasses slowly falling off the cliff's edge of a spoon, and kimberly lets her fingertips draw lazy spirals along his forearm, careful not to press too hard or otherwise distract from the attentions to the road. just enough of a touch to be felt, a reminder of her presence, but not quite firm enough to be demanding.
as she looks back up, the shift in scenery is a clue as to where this particular journey might be headed. gone are the charmingly close together storefronts, the light scatterings of city dwellers on sidewalks and crosswalks, and the ambient hum of the occasional fellow car on the road; in their place are trees and tall grass and the promise of mountains in the distance. if kimberly remembers her first few days, there's a beach, too, in another direction, and a woodsy forest patch in another; it seems there's almost nothing that isn't here, if you only wanted to find it.
his question, though, pulls her attentions back into the interior of the car, where his smile is so warm and gentle under those sunglasses. not that she minds. she's more than happy to answer this question, practically purring, ) One's no good without the other... but I'd say the driver, in this case.
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( it's a tease, a lilt in her voice that's a barely-there drawl, like warm honey and molasses slowly falling off the cliff's edge of a spoon, and kimberly lets her fingertips draw lazy spirals along his forearm, careful not to press too hard or otherwise distract from the attentions to the road. just enough of a touch to be felt, a reminder of her presence, but not quite firm enough to be demanding.
as she looks back up, the shift in scenery is a clue as to where this particular journey might be headed. gone are the charmingly close together storefronts, the light scatterings of city dwellers on sidewalks and crosswalks, and the ambient hum of the occasional fellow car on the road; in their place are trees and tall grass and the promise of mountains in the distance. if kimberly remembers her first few days, there's a beach, too, in another direction, and a woodsy forest patch in another; it seems there's almost nothing that isn't here, if you only wanted to find it.
his question, though, pulls her attentions back into the interior of the car, where his smile is so warm and gentle under those sunglasses. not that she minds. she's more than happy to answer this question, practically purring, ) One's no good without the other... but I'd say the driver, in this case.