Re: quick: aaron & destiny
[People could pour syrup through words like they were dowsing pancakes and it didn't mean nothing, except that they wanted you to think they were sugar. Words could be most anything, just sticky with sweetness and Aaron figured the best way to go about digging through all that syrup was to listen to the spaces between the words. You couldn't get all lost in syrup there. She stopped close enough that he could look on in at her face. Aaron didn't notice the streak of ointment mostly because he didn't know it was odd.
She smelled like growing things, green things and Aaron lit out of the shadow, the taint of metal and poison-oil on the back of his tongue close enough to get in. He reached with his fingers, careful because most people lit off if you touched without asking first and he supposed the oil on his fingers was dirty, least ways the way people minded. The gas station wasn't abandoned none because Aaron was getting paid to watch it, but PJ and Atticus hadn't said nothing about flowers. Aaron figured his hands were warm, because he didn't feel cold and he put his fingers on her wrist, stead of any place people fussed about. And he looked at the way her eyes looked.
Truck looked not a lot better than the oil smell in the air here, but it wasn't alone. Aaron judged it critically, squinteyed and he nodded assent.]