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Rated: E · Prose · Relationship · #2148579
What a memory
I remember the first time we went riding. It must have been nearly midnight when you picked me up. You came to the door to pick me up, and my mother appreciated that. When we got into the car, I was so excited that you had to remind me to buckle my seatbelt. As you drove away from my house, you asked me where I wanted to go. I cocked my eyebrow and told you that, if you went with me, I didn't care. You laughed and asked me to at least pick a direction. I said west, I think. You let me roll down the window and and my hair whipped around my face and brushed against your arm. You were surprised when I sang along to your music and the look on your face kept me laughing for miles. Then there were times, of course, when I'd just watch. I'd watch you concentrate on driving, watch you move and sing along to certain songs. I listened to those songs more than to others. I wanted to know why you liked them so much. I remember your laugh when I danced to one of my favorite songs and the decision I made that second, the decision that, provided I could hear that laugh for the rest of my life, I'd never listen to any of my music ever again. When you dropped me off at 3 a.m., I clung to you as you held me for a moment and told me that there were many more car rides to come.
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