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lust4lyf3 · 7 months ago

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Strangers (pt. 1)

Pairing: Lee (Bones and All) x fem reader

Prompt: On y/n’s long and winding journey to nowhere, she runs into someone mysterious. He reminds her of her past, something she’s unsure she should pursue, but is unable to fight the urge.

Warnings: mentions of cannibalism, death, blood, smoking

Word count: 6k

watched bones & all and couldn’t help myself !!!

i’m also an ethel cain fanatic so this is heavily inspired by her and her songs, specifically thoroughfare. highly recommend listening.

anyway timothee was so fine in b&a i was eating it up, no pun intended !

* * *

Whoosh.

It's a humid, late afternoon. The sound of cars passing, insects buzzing, and my shoes consistently hitting the ground, one after the other, fill the air. The passing scenery is lush, and littered with deteriorating stores belittled to roadside stops that invade the town.

Indiana isn't where I live. And it won't be where I'm staying, either. I'm just the same as all the others, passing through and then I'm on my way. Though, I may be slightly different.

I keep on trudging, trying to find any place I can stop and get a drink, my sweat beaded around my forehead. I clutch onto the strap of my bag around me, my very few belongings steadily hitting against my leg as I walk.

I look down at my beaten to near death shoes. I couldn't begin to count the places they've taken me even if I tried. I focus again on what's in front of me, trying not to accidentally sway into oncoming traffic getting lost in my thoughts.

I feel tired, but I'm used to it. This is what my life is, now. Going from one place to the other, on my own. I somehow scraped up enough money to take the train, but I could only make it so far. And now I'm right back where I started. On my feet, and in a place I don't know.

It doesn't exactly phase me. I've never really had a place in my life that I called home. So, this is just what I do now. Anywhere but the place I was forced to call home.

Another few whooshes of passing cars, mostly trucks. A few looks from their drivers as well. The state of me isn't horrible, but definitely not the most presentable. But hell, why would I care? They might think I'm lost or something, walking around alone with torn up clothes and an old bag, I get that. But what they don't know is that I'm far from lost.

Finally, I see corner store, a few paces up the road. A type of place that I find a lot of solace in. I keep on, approaching the small, old building with its makeshift gravel parking lot infested with weeds and various litter.

I walk up, but stop before the entrance at the edge of the street. A break is needed to be had. I sit down abruptly, my ass on the road and my shoes in the dirt. I sigh a breathe of relief and take in the feeling of not relying on my feet before fishing into my bag. I poke around, and find my cigarettes, and eventually my lighter.

I pull them out and flick the box open. One left. Good thing I'm at the store. I put the box up to my lips and close them around the singular cigarette, pulling the box away and tossing it back in the bag. I lift the lighter and easily catch a light, no breeze in the way. Much to my discontent, though. I need a good breeze right now.

I take a drag as the light stays at the end, then flick the lighter closed and take it out of my mouth, exhaling. I close my eyes and lean back on one hand. A great feeling, this is. These are the moments I live for. The small ones, where I feel like if I just willed it, I might feel a little bit of heaven.

I open my eyes again, and take in my surroundings. I can smell the grass and car exhaust that add to the ambiance of the outdated building. A few figures pass by in the windows of the lit store. I peer far enough back to see that they have freezers at the end of the aisles. Jackpot. The thought of an ice cold Coke could keep me alive right now.

I take a few more drags of the cigarette and then leave it still in my mouth. I pull my bag onto my lap and rummage around some more, looking for my leftover cash. I find some loose bills and coins, and gather them all up in one hand. I shuffle through them quickly, counting. Not as much as I would like there to be, as per usual. I sigh again, this time not of relief.

It's enough to buy another pack of Marlboro Reds, but that's about it. I ponder what I know I might have to do. I've done it before, but I still don't like it every time.

It's easy to get scrappy when you're out here like I am, something I've noticed quite a bit. I've accepted it's just something you have to get used to. I justify it to myself as being better than what I escaped. I don't think anything tops that.

I finish the cigarette, fling the butt into the ground, and give it a good stomp. I worry that one day my shoes will be so worn that the soles will give out, and I might feel the cigarette on my foot next time. Irrational fear, I would notice before that.

I put the money neatly in my pocket and stand up, slinging my bag back around my shoulder. It's now closer to dusk, meaning I have to find a place to stay, and quickly.

I start walking up to the clear glass doors, and then push myself in. Instantly a wave of air conditioning hits my face and blows through my hair. Another small, heavenly moment. The aroma of the store came mostly from the direction of the freezers, sort of a cardboard-like smell, but comforting nonetheless.

Another curious smell entered my senses, but it almost wasn't a smell. It's more like a feeling, weirdly. But it's faint.

I brush it off, and look around. There's an older woman clerk behind the counter at a register, flipping through a magazine with long nails and chewing loudly on a piece of gum. She didn't look up when I came in. A good sign.

I walk in further under the harsh fluorescent lights and past an aisle. I keep on observing the store, on the lookout for things I want to take with me. I have to travel light, so I only allow myself the necessities.

I peer into an aisle and see a mother with her small daughter browsing the snacks. I peer into the next, a bigger looking man near the very end at the freezers in the back. It looks like he's looking at the alcohol.

I weave in through the aisle, carefully scanning its sides for things I might need. I see way too many things I want, that's for sure. It hurts my heart blowing right past the Twinkies. God, I haven't had one of those in a while.

The feeling I felt earlier comes on a little stronger. I can't help but feel that it is a sort of scent, but I can't really tell. I'm pretty sure I'm just dizzy from not eating, or something.

I move on from the aisle with nothing, proud of myself for refraining from grabbing something extraneous. I walk past the big guy, who definitely smells like he had already downed quite a few beers, and into the next aisle with the toiletries in it.

Near the end of the aisle is a younger looking guy, probably around my age, tall, sort of lanky. Immediately when I see him, I feel the weird sense again. I'm just hoping at this point that my stomach doesn't make some weird, worrying noise. But this time, it feels like it's coming from something external.

I keep walking closer the middle of the aisle, trying to focus on which stuff is on the shelves. The guy comes a little bit clearer into my peripheral view, and I can see that his dark brown hair is dyed red at the ends in the style of a mullet. He stays studying something hanging up in the row.

He seems like the type of person I would've liked to know. I always hung around the more alternative kids in school, and he seems like that type, with his overly ripped jeans and floral button-up shirt. But, I'm on the lonely road for now. I can't stick around anywhere.

I still feel the feeling, the sense, the smell. It worsens as I keep moving down, but it doesn't cloud my mind. I'm still clear-headed, but the scent is definitely present. I can't help but feel a sort of familiarity with it. Something kind of gross that reminds of me of my past. I try not to be reminded of what it is and keep on and on with my scanning.

And then, I spot it. The Holy Grail. Tampons. That is a necessity. I move immediately towards them low down on the shelf. I crouch down on the floor next to them and look for the right ones.

I keep looking, bluffing slightly by pretending to read the labels to get my bag open a little wider. I realize I'm lot closer to that guy now.

In a swift motion, I grab one of the boxes, and quickly swipe it into the bag. I try to think that maybe the guy didn't see it, but I'm not sure how he couldn't have. I reflexively and awkwardly turn my head up to look at him, checking to see if he was looking in my direction. Right as I turned, so did he.

We make eye contact, and the feeling I get is overwhelming. The smell is strong now. And I can definitely smell it. But that's not all that I'm sensing.

In the span of the few milliseconds I'd been looking at him, I somehow felt like there was some sort of energy field between us, an indescribable and sudden thing.

It's almost as if he read my mind, because the look he gives back to me is one of knowing, slightly bordering on confusion. He must be feeling something, too. He hums for a moment, and then nods a little, like he knows what I'm doing and is giving me the clear.

I'm still distracted by the whole interaction, and buffer for a moment before looking back down and swiping another box. How weird is this?

I'm still a little bit overtaken with my thoughts when the big, drunk guy walks into the aisle, holding a can in his hand. I look over his way as he leans down slightly, looking at a shelf a little ways away.

The mom with the kid from earlier then comes out from behind the other row, turning to come into the aisle. She's a little bit close to the drunk guy.

"Excuse me," she says to him, very politely.

"Woah, you tryin' to run me down?" he says loudly, unbalanced-ly turning towards her and getting awkwardly close in her space. She looks at him a little bit confused, and definitely scared, and keeps moving.

"I asked a question!" he rings again when she doesn't respond. She starts walking faster down the aisle. "Hear this, ya dumb hoe!-"

"Hey! Don't talk to her like that-," I quickly say, unable to keep it in.

"Hey!" the dark hair guy from before says behind me, directly after I speak up, almost cutting me off. "You're out of control, buddy."

I quickly turn around and look over at him. He's looking back down at the shelf already.

"Are you with the store, or something'?" drunk guy talks back, obviously perturbed.

"Nah, I'm not with the store, but I'm gonna escort you out of it," dark hair says back overconfidently, now standing up straight and starting to walk towards drunk guy.

"Fuckin' see what happens!" drunk guy shouts, coming closer.

What is this kid doing?, I think to myself. Drunk guy is probably 3 times the body mass of him. But he still approaches.

"See what happens? See what happens" dark hair mumbles tauntingly. "Is something bad gonna happen?" he turns to me and smirks while he says it, almost like a Watch this, and then turns back to the guy.

In one sudden, freak motion, dark hair comes up to drunk guy, and nearly head-butts him, making both me and drunk guy jump. He comes so close, and then moves away at the last second, like some sort of entrancing dance.

Dark hair moves around weirdly like a posturing animal in front of him, like nothing I've ever seen before. Drunk guy stands there for a second, extremely pissed off, before shouting Outside! and pointing out the store. Dark hair quickly runs away from him and out of the aisle, drunk guy hustling close behind.

I stand up from my crouch, trying to look over the row to see where they go.

"We're going outside!" he repeats, angrily.

"You enjoy hassling people, man? Is that what you do on Saturdays when you're done jerking off?" I hear dark hair say as he pushes open the door leading outside into the parking lot. Drunk guy keeps with him, looking more fuming than before.

They mumble something else to each other that I can't hear before fully exiting. I stand there for a second, trying to process what just happened. I luckily saw the mom and daughter checking out and about to leave, thankfully. I'll never understand jerks like that. What's their problem?

I then think about dark hair guy. I really hope he doesn't get beaten to a pulp out there, though I'm pretty sure that's what will happen. He was just trying to help.

I quickly remember what I'm doing in the store, and turn back to the shelf. Good thing is that whatever that was that just happened would definitely distract from the fact that I'm stealing.

Weirdly, I can still faintly smell the strange scent, but it mostly went away.

I lean back down to the tampons to grab one more box, and then, it hits me.

I gasp and drop the box I just grabbed on the ground. The scent. The knowing. I have felt it before.

A brief memory flashes in my mind of my older sister, someone I've tried to block from my memory altogether.

No matter how hard I try to forget about her and my family, I'll never forget what she did.

I shake my head, trying to clear my head. If I wasn't before, I was definitely dizzy now.

I know why I smelled what I did and felt what I did. It had to have been coming from the dark hair guy.

I recalled from the memory that it was when my sister came to me one day, her a teenager and I just a little bit younger. She told me something no kid should even know exists. She said she had urges to do terrible, terrible things.

Which, specifically, was eating people.

I was skeptical and didn't want to believe it for a long time, but that was before other things unfolded and everything went to shit, but it was real.

And the smell.

I had forgotten that there was a certain feeling that I got when I was around my sister, similar to experiencing an aroma, or an aura. I had picked up on it so sensitively from being around her often. And I also had a hunch it might be something genetic.

But still, I never felt that connection feeling.

But I tried so, so hard to convince myself all of that shit was just a dream. And I still am. And that's part of why I am where I am.

I come back to reality, still standing in the same place.

I quickly pick up the box that I dropped, and move out of the aisle to another one, trying to just continue on with my day. But I'm thinking too hard, all of these drudged up thoughts and repressed memories surfacing.

But mostly, I was thinking about dark hair guy, wishing I knew his name, and thinking about how he looked at me. His chiseled face and shadowy features, but he looked kind. I'm pretty sure his eyes were green. He was really good looking, now that I think about it. Why am I thinking that? Why am I thinking good things about someone who I just found out is a cannibal?

I fight away that thought, but I still can't help but feel like there was something that was strange between us. I recognized the aura, but the connected sensation that I felt was completely foreign to me. It felt otherworldly. And I can't help but think that he felt it, too. It was weirdly comforting.

All I wanted to do was to talk to him, or something. Maybe he would even let me tag along with him, wherever he's going. It's hard being alone out here sometimes, not to mention dangerous. Maybe he even has some money, or a car. I assume he's on the run, sort of like I am. For different reasons, obviously, but I understand his cause.

I at least just want know who he is. And then I'll move on with my life. I just can't stop thinking about what I felt. The connection.

Or, I could just be getting dehydration hallucinations. Honestly, I hope it's that. It would make things a lot less complicated.

Being reminded of how thirsty I am, I move back towards the freezers, and grab a freezing cold water bottle and a glass coke bottle. I slip them both in my bag, maybe a little bit too obviously. I can't really get myself to care much anymore.

I grab a couple random bags of something from the snack aisle, slip that in my bag too, and then move to the front counter. The lady looks up from her magazine.

"Just some Marlboro Reds, please," I say. She looks me up and down for a moment, probably trying to study if I'm old enough. If she doesn't think so, she doesn't say anything, and turns around and grabs the box of cigarettes off the wall, and slides them onto the counter.

"Two-fifty," she says, sounding very unimpressed. I fork the money out of my pocket and hand it over. I give her three dollars.

While she gets my change out of the register, I look out the glass doors that lead outside, hoping maybe I see dark hair guy. I have no idea what could've gone on between him and that guy.

She dings the register closed, and I start to feel the smell entering my senses again. I frantically try to focus my eyes around the scenery outside, searching for any sign of dark hair guy. There's an abandoned-looking building across the parking lot from the store.

"Ma'am."

I turn towards the clerk lady. She's holding out my change for me. Fifty cents.

"Sorry," I say flustered, putting out my hand for the change. She drops it in my palm, I shove it in my pocket, grab my cigarettes, and walk to the door.

I pause in front of the entrance, my hands resting on the push handle. I look out of the glass and try searching more, attempting to follow the scent. It's fully dusk now. Fading pink and purple hues fill the horizon.

Without thinking, I push my way out the door, unable to ignore the scent still closing in on me. The air is slightly brisk, but still thick with humidity. My gaze is fixated on the abandon building as I carefully stalk closer to it, the dusty gravel of the lot crunching beneath my shoes. It seems like it's coming from that general direction.

Before I can process it, the smell gets overwhelmingly strong, my head and lungs almost drowning in it. I pause for a moment, almost hyperventilating. He was close.

A sudden noise comes from the building, a sound like shoes scuffing on concrete. A person emerges from the shadows of a window-less hole in the side of the decrepit building.

Its him. He's not wearing a shirt, and there's blood all over him.

He's carrying a bag, which he quickly throws down once he jumps over the short wall. He crouches down and pulls something out of it, and then turns his head, eyes landing on me. All I can do is stare back.

We recognize each other for a moment, and then he turns his attention back down to whatever he pulled out of the bag, which was a water bottle. He unscrews the lid, places the bottle between his knees so the water comes spilling out, and splashes it on himself in efforts of cleaning the blood off.

I realize that he's now wearing a hat. The same one drunk guy was wearing in the store.

Did he...?

He screws the top back on the bottle, shoves it in his bag, and slings it over his shoulder. He turns in my direction, and stops, looking me dead in the eye. I stand still, the sound of my heart beating consuming my hearing. He slowly starts to stalk towards me, maintaining the menacing eye contact.

He pauses just slightly in his tracks, like he's trying to study me, smell me, maybe, before he keeps walking. I felt hot under his brief stare, like I was under a magnifying glass being angled to the sun.

He gets closer, and then turns abruptly to the right towards the cars in the lot, his gaze now averted down to his feet.

"He's over in there, like, 400 yards, if you want him," he says, breaking the silence. He points over to the building using his head, still walking.

I keep staring, not sure what to say. I shake my head no, slightly. I guess he did eat that guy. Oh God. Does he think I wanna eat him?

I should probably get far away from him, but I can't shake this weird feeling. I still feel like I need to talk to him, or something.

Before I know it, I'm moving to follow him, my curiosity getting the better of me.

"Could you tell anything? In the store?" I blurt out, not thinking before speaking. My question doesn't make much sense. What I meant to say more coherently was if he could tell that I sensed him, or if he felt the weird feeling that I felt, too.

Still, he pauses, and half-turns around to look at me. "I smelled you. In the store. I didn't know I could do that," I say again, trying to save myself. Trying to tell him I'm different, too.

Again, he just stares. The same menacing, yet studying, stare.

"I'm, uh, going west for awhile, and I got dumped here by the train. I just stole dinner because, well, I don't have any money," I drone on, attempting to fill the awkward silence, and maybe allude to us being some sort of alliance. "You're not local either, I guess?"

"Why does that matter?" he quickly responds, almost in a mumble.

I pause for a moment. He's defensive, and I'm not sure what to say. But, at least he said something. It's quiet before I speak again.

"That was nice, what you did for that mom in there," I say, changing the subject and attempting to be friendly, searching for any sort of camaraderie.

Silence, again. Staring, again. He looks confused more than anything. His expression clearly reads Why are you talking to me?

"I'm eighteen, if you're wondering," I add on. I need him to know I'm really on my own, and I'm an adult. I nervously fiddle with the hem of my shorts.

"I was gonna guess younger," he says, in his same mumble tone. Man of few words.

"Thanks," I reply, looking down at the ground, unsure of what to say again. He turns his head and spits on the ground in front of him.

"I don't usually talk to anyone after. I don't actually meet many others. Sorta glad not to," he speaks again, turning on his heel and approaching a blue pick-up truck. His words were so quiet, I almost didn't hear him. He's definitely on the run.

"Yeah, I get that," I say to his now turned back, my feet moving to catch up to him. He reaches into the truck through the open window and unlocks it, clicking open the door. "Except, I'm not really like you. I don't... eat."

He pauses, half-turning again. Staring, again, his puzzled look returning. I stop in my tracks in front of him.

"I can just, sorta, tell when someone does. I knew someone else who did. My sister. So, I'm cool. I understand."

"Huh," he huffs out, his jaw twinged a bit in curiosity. He thought that I was an eater. So, he did feel something. "Still, I'm just saying. I'm not an asshole."

He turns back around and fully opens the car door, starting to put his bag on the seat. We're both silent. He's running, and I'm not sure I can get him to take me with him. I do get it, really. There's not much I can do. Maybe I shouldn't get myself into this mess, anyway.

"You should probably go, anyway. Up close you can see blood," I say, half in defeat, and half in genuinely trying to help.

He turns his head again and gives me a scoff-like expression, almost like a smirk. Like he thinks I might be a little over the top.

"We're fine," he says, and then turns back around, shuffling through his bag.

I look down, and then around at the street and the store, hesitant of what to do. I realize that it's basically dark, and I still don't have a place to sleep. God.

"No, I'm really not sure I am," I respond, semi-absentmindedly, still looking around. I'm worried, now. I might have to sleep next to the dead guy in the building tonight.

He turns to me again. He's put on his shirt and is pulling on the floral one. He looks around for a moment, like he's thinking of saying something he doesn't really want to. There's a hint of sympathy on his face, but mostly reluctance.

"Do you want to get in? For a minute?" he says, his eyes on me now, his finger pointed at the truck.

I look up at him, surprised. He was definitely just trying to get me to get the hell away from him a minute ago. I nod at him slightly, appreciative. His expression is softer now, which I much prefer than the scary one. It looks more like the one he had back in the store.

He then hops into the driver's seat of the truck, and I quickly walk around to the passenger side. He shuts his door and leans his arm up on the edge, looking out the window. I get in next to him, shut the door, and look around the truck.

It's a nice Ford truck, with a bench seat and an FM radio. He averts his gaze from the window to inside, specifically at the glove compartment in front of me. He moves his arm to open it up, his other hand on the wheel. He cracks it open and it makes a loud noise, and his hand brushes up against my knee. He moves it quickly.

He shuffles through the small compartment and pulls out a few pieces of paper, and then holds them up in front of him.

"Barry Cook. 5278 Route 13. Centerville, Indiana. Hm," he reads. His registration?

"Wait, is this your car?" I ask, a little concerned.

"No. It's the guy's," he says, pointing again towards the building with his head. Jesus, stealing his car? I'm still getting used to the fact that he ate him.

"Well, this truck is his. You can't just take it," I say, turned towards him. There's a little bit of urgency in my tone. A little bit of worry, too.

"Everyone's got their rules. That's not one of my rules," he replies, still studying the paper.

I sit back in the seat, a little bit taken aback. I guess there's not much else you can do to that guy. He's gone now.

"What are you gonna do now?" I ask, genuinely curious.

"Go to house, probably," he says, looking up from the paper and out at the road.

"His house?"

"Yeah, he didn't have any pictures in his wallet. I think I'll be alright."

"You took his wallet, too?"

"I didn't take his wallet, I took the money out of the wallet. Eight bucks," he says, doing the smirk-scoff again. "I chucked the wallet in the creek back there."

He shuffles some more in his bag. I look around again, still taken aback. I can't be judgmental. I live on the rocks, too. I knew how my sister was. It was something that she couldn't fight off doing. I'm surprised now, but I'd probably be doing some of the same bad things in a couple months time. I never thought I'd ever steal, and look where I'm at now.

I scan outside a little more, considering if I should take the risk and go with him. I mean, he is who he is and does what he does. I don't know if I'm safe. I don't even know his name. I should probably be really scared that he'll kidnap me and eat me, and normally I would be, but somehow, something inside of me is telling me that he won't. And I can't deny that feeling. I also really don't want to sleep outside.

"Do you feel it?" he asks abruptly, breaking me out of my thoughts. I whip my head towards him. Is he a mindreader too?

He's staring down at the steering wheel, jaw clenched, the red in his hair barely visible in the dark. I take in the question for a second, looking at him. He does.

"Yeah, I do. If you're talking about what I think you are."

He sucks on his teeth, and nods slightly. I search his face for some kind of resolution, like he might know what it is.

"I thought you were like me, but you're not. You're different," he says, still looking down, "I've never met anyone like that. Like you."

My heart flutters in my chest a little bit. He doesn't know. So, then what is it?

"I don't know what it is," I say, looking down at my lap now, suddenly a bit shy. Something about the conversation felt vulnerable, now. I remembered again that I still don't know his name. I look up at him once more. "I'm y/n."

He looks up at me. The shadow of his strong nose casts on his face.

"I'm Lee."

Lee. I like that name.

I felt the need to explain myself to him, why I was out here. I still feel weird at how little we know about each other. He's still looking over at me.

"I'm out here by choice. I ran away from home, in Florida," I say, looking out the windshield momentarily. "Just some fucked up family shit. Sort of has to do with my sister. It's a lot. But it's been a few weeks, and I'm already up here."

Lee looks down at his lap, nodding.

"I get that."

Its quiet again for a moment.

"I thought my sister was the only one," I say, breaking the silence, "Until now." Lee's gaze flickers over to me for a second. "I don't know if I should be surprised, or not."

"There's a lot of us," he says, sullenly. He picks his head up and looks outside again. I feel bad. I can't imagine being in his shoes. I knew what it was like for my sister, and I would never wish that on any being. Let alone 'a lot' of beings.

A wave of tiredness hits me, and I'm reminded again of sleep. I should probably ask Lee if I can stay with him before assuming I can. He's only agreed to let me sit in here with him.

"Hey, do you think you could help me?" I say, and his gaze shifts forward, out the windshield, like he's listening. "I'm new at all this, and, I'm all alone out here. Maybe, I could just, come with you for awhile. Wherever you go. I don't care."

I watch his reaction as his jaw twinges again, like he's thinking, but leaning towards no. But, he's still thinking.

"Look, I won't try to mess with you, I promise. I'll stay away and let you do, you know. I'm not gonna tell anyone or freak out or anything. I understand," I say, almost desperately.

He sighs, and then picks up the guy's hat from earlier off the seat, and puts it on. He turns the key in the ignition, and starts the car.

"You said west?" he asks, and my stomach leaps in relief. I can't help but let out a small smile. He looks over at me for just a moment and sees my expression.

"Thank you," I say, sincerely. I relax a little bit, and realize that I'd been tensed up for sometime. I have a place to sleep now.

"We're going to this guy's house first. And then I'm on the road," he says, starting to slowly pull out of the parking lot.

"Okay," I reply, nodding. I'm a little bit creeped that it's a dead guy's house, but I'm ready to get used to it. I already was at one point in my life. If I'm gonna stick around, I better do it again.

Lee stops at the street, looks both ways, and then turns right down the road. I look out the window. It's crazy the difference in scenery when you're walking versus driving. I'm appreciating it much more in the car. This truck definitely beats walking.

The windows are down, and a slight wind blows through my hair. Another small slice of heaven moment. I close my eyes, letting the cool air and street lamplight cascade over me.

I open them again, and then look over at Lee, his eyes concentrated on road ahead of him. I stare for a second, maybe a little bit longer than I intend to, and I start to see a smirk spread across his mouth. He laughs, just a little bit. He can tell I'm looking at him.

I can't help but smile slightly and laugh, too. I turn my attention back out the window. Maybe we will be friends. I hope we can be.

I shut my eyes again, seeing if I can doze off. The seat is comfortable, and car ride will probably be long. I listen to the summer breeze outside and crickets chirping, and it's enough to almost send me off.

I peek my eyes open one more time, and lean my head against the door. The side mirror is turned inward just enough so I can see Lee in the driver's seat. I watch for a second, and then see him turn his head towards me, once, twice, and then a third time.

He was looking at me. I don't think he knows I can see him.

I feel my cheeks getting hot slightly, and then close my eyes again. Another moment.

I think we might be friends.

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hope u enjoyed !! lmk if u want a part 2

#lee bones and all #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #lee bones and all fic #luca guadagnino #bones and all #taylor russell #lee bones and all x reader #timothee chalamet fic #imagine #movies #cinema #ethel cain #thoroughfare #mother cain #cannibalism as a metaphor for love #preacher’s daughter

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