Disclaimer: I own nothing.
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my old man is a bad man but / i can't deny the way he holds my hand / and he grabs me, he has me by my heart / he doesn't mind i have a las vegas past / he doesn't mind i have a l.a. crass way about me / he loves me / with every beat of his cocaine heart
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He's older, something draws her to him like a moth to a flame.
Like an addict to a drug.
Like a small child to ice-cream.
She knows he's bad news, she's heard all about the infamous Carter Baizen.
He breaks hearts, Is will whisper over yogurt, gushing about the way his eyes sparkle when he smiles. They all giggle, scooping yogurt into their mouths as they gossip about him.
He picks her up from school one day, leaning against the school gates, a cigarette hanging from his lips. It's an overused line, and it's a cliche, but he really does look like James Dean. His hands are shoved carelessly in his pockets and-
"Hey beautiful," He mumbles, grabbing her hand and dragging her down the street.
Her laugh is like a child's, infectious, golden, enchanting.
She doesn't want to be another one of his flings, another broken heart in his collection of them. She wants to be something more, but she doesn't really care when his mouth decides to cover hers.
She's just another one of those hopeless girls that fall in love with him.
And somehow, he happens to fall in love with her.
"I love you," He whispers, pulling his lips away.
It could just be another step in his game, another step in order for him to break her heart.
She pulls away, running off down the street, coat flapping in the wind, blonde hair blowing in the breeze.
He chases after her, imagines that they're not in New York, that they're somewhere exotic because they are exotic. They belong on a beach with white sand that burns their feet, and a blue sea that shines like diamonds and feels like ice. They belong somewhere where the sun beats down upon them, their eyes half closed as they lay across that white sand, listening to each others heartbeats.
He forgets for a minute that she's just a child, a foolish child with a laugh that sounds like heaven.
His hand grabs her waist, pulling her back to him, her head is thrown back, that laugh flowing from her lips as she connects their mouths together.
"You don't really love me, you love the idea of me." She states, hands clawing at his shoulders. He shrugs those shoulders, leaning down to whisper in her ear.
"Maybe, beautiful." He whispers, sending shivers down her spine.
(He breaks hearts but he's making hers soar.)
She has a lame excuse on the tip of her tongue for why she has to go, she almost goes through with saying it. Almost goes through with running again, because Carter loves the chase. Almost.
He's been chasing her down for years, accidental meetings on the pavement, sloppy kisses at bars over martini's and scotches that barely get touched, a friendly arm wrapped around her waist as he escorts her down flights of stairs at certain events where their families are present.
And she always runs, fear, the thrill, excitement, it doesn't matter why.
And just when she's about to stay, to give in to Carter Baizen, to let her heart get broken she breaks his instead.
A\N: AU. Prompt for LJ. Off to the races by Lana Del Rey.