A/N: Ahh, I'm doing this. Why am I doing this? Oh, I'm doing this. Well, this is my Modern AU/High School that the darling remyohh challenged me to write. So, here it is. This is for you, Rem.
She leaned her head against the car window, ignoring the angry sighs and pissed off glares that he was throwing her way. This had all happened before, and it was certainly bound to happen again. He was mad at her because she had spoken out of turn and disagreed with him in public, he didn't like to be made a fool of, and he certainly didn't like when it was she who made him the fool. He liked her submissive and pretty, without a single thought in her head, obeying and abiding his rules and wishes.
That had never been her.
She might've been more of a lady than Arya, but she was still a Stark and her sister wasn't the only one with an attitude. But, he would never see that, he had never seen it. Never bothered to look past her pretty smiles and simpering eyes to see what she was really like. She wasn't a caged bird or a kept woman, but he didn't see that part of her. And, she hadn't let him.
Their relationship was horrid, and it wasn't only his fault.
That realization stung more than it should've the first time she stumbled across the notion. Joffrey was a sadistic asshole who would definitely end up becoming a sociopath, but she let him get away with it. She let him degrade her in front of his friends, his family. She let him push her around and bruise her flesh. She let him. And that made her sicker than anything he'd ever done.
She wasn't even sure what to do anymore. She didn't love him. She hadn't loved him for a long time, but she couldn't leave him, because then she would be proving everyone right. And she really didn't want to see the condescending I told you so in her mother's eyes. She didn't want Jeyne and Arya, Margaery, or even Jon and Robb to look at her with that painful mixture of pity and validation.
She heard him annoyingly sigh again, she didn't look over at him, which she knew pissed him off further. She shouldn't play with fire, but, she was just so over this whole situation that she couldn't help herself. She just kept her head tucked against the window, the cool winter air making the glass cold and soothing her warm skin. She could feel him looking at her, feel his hot gaze on her, it would only be a matter of time before he stopped with the sighing and started to yell. She'd wait.
He fed off of her fear, her pain, and occasionally, her futile efforts to fight back. Which is why nothing pissed him off quite like being ignored. Being the oldest son and heir to a multimillion dollar corporation fed that great ego of his, and made sure that all his pathetic whims and desires were met. She had certainly attended to a few.
He had been the most beautiful boy she'd ever seen. She realized now just how naïve and stupid she actually was, that beauty amounted to nothing, but back in Middle School, she couldn't imagine herself marrying anyone other than him. Back then, she'd wanted nothing more than to be kissed by the handsome boy and grow up to become his perfect wife and have his beautiful blonde babies.
She supposed he'd always been cruel, he had just been better at hiding it back then, back before they started dating and she became his favorite whipping post. Maybe she just brought out the worst in him, he certainly brought out the worst in her.
She had never hated herself quite as much as she did these days. She hated who she was, who she had become, the way she acted, the things she said. Deep down she knew that she wasn't a petty bitch, that she cared about more than just being a trophy wife and helping Joffrey run for Governor someday, that she was more than just something to dangle off his arm. She had a voice, and thoughts, and not all of them were about being High School royalty as they once were.
She wondered how long she could let herself go on like this. How much longer she could stay with someone so cruel, who didn't truly seem to care about her at all.
She realized then that their relationship had become nothing more than one of mutual ambition, they both wanted things, they were using each other to gain them. But, the idea of having that perfect life, with the big house and a grand amount of money did nothing for her anymore. She couldn't stand the idea of waking up next to him every day and lying next to the man who hurt her every night.
The problem was, she didn't know how to leave. A part of her was scared to.
Who was she without Joffrey? It's who she'd been for the past four years; Joffrey's girlfriend, the future Mrs. Baratheon. How could she go back to being just Sansa?
He hadn't begun yelling yet, which unsettled her a bit. He was usually true to form when it came to being pissed off at her. It started with the glares, then the tightened jaw and heavy sighs, that quickly turning into yelling and degrading comments about her, which then lead to the blows. He'd busted her lip once, just once. He never made that mistake again. Her brothers had seen it and flipped out, begging her to tell them if it'd been him, she'd lied and said it was some girl in her gym class that elbowed her during soccer. He usually struck her in places no one else would see, that no one else had seen, except him.
The fact that he wasn't following his usual pattern was starting to worry her. He hadn't said a word since they left the party. Not a single word. He had sighed in anger, but now even that had stopped. She didn't chance the look over to him, not wanting him to feel her gaze on his skin. Afraid of how he'd react if he saw her cowering. It was almost worse than being defiant, almost.
She was patient, she'd sit through the heavy silence, filled only with the thunderous sound of her heart beating in her ears, and wait for the car ride to be over. It was snowing, that was the only thought she'd been able to let slip through her mind before he stopped the car.
They were on the long county road that would take them back to their part of town from where the party had taken place. The road was surrounded by woods on either side for miles, empty at this time of night, and dark without street lamps. He had pulled off to the side a bit, but it wouldn't have mattered if he didn't, it was two-thirty on a snowy friday night, no one was driving through.
She chanced a look over to him now, he was staring at his hands that were gripping the steering wheel, the car in park but still running. His jaw was clenched and his eyes narrowed slightly. She knew that look, unfortunately. But, she wasn't about to show him how much he frightened her. She could be brave, if Arya could be brave, than so could she. She channeled a bit of her sister and turned to face him, "Why did you stop?"
He turned on her then, his green eyes cold. He hadn't regarded her with any warmth in a long time, if he ever actually had. She was convinced he was just a charming manipulator, letting her believe what she wanted from him, which had been love. Maybe he had loved her once, but he certainly didn't now.
"Who said you could speak?"
Her eyes narrowed at him in a display of courage and strength she didn't always possess. "Last time I checked, I don't have to ask you for that right."
He slapped her quickly, her hand coming up to press against the stinging flesh. She was a little shocked, not because he'd struck her, but that he'd hit her in the face. He rounded on her then, yelling at her as she expected him to. "What's it going to take for you to learn some respect? You don't speak to me like that, understand? And you certainly don't contradict me in front of others."
Her eyes were a bit watery from the slap, but she defiantly kept them locked with his, instead of downcast as he wanted them. "You know what, Joffrey, I'm sick of you treating me like chattel instead of your girlfriend!" She wasn't sure where the bout of anger and courage came from, but she didn't question it and used it to fuel her glare from across the car.
He had his seatbelt undone and his hand around her throat faster than she could even blink, her back and shoulders were against the door of his Mercedes, her hands grabbing at his wrist. "You are what I decide you are, Sansa. Nothing more." He gave one last squeeze, his eyes narrowed before he released her. She sucked in deep tuffs of air, coughing a few times. "I've about had it with your shit. I won't put up with it, I mean it, Sansa. Learn to respect me or this won't be pleasurable for either of us."
She quickly unbuckled her own seatbelt, reaching down into her purse for a bottle of water, hoping that would sooth her aching throat. She could care less what Joffrey was going on about, her mind foggy and her heart pounding harshly in her ears, wanting nothing more than to just get out of the car and go home. He was saying something about her being a prudish whore when she opened up the car door and made to get out. He grabbed her wrist tightly, causing her to cry out and drop her purse on the snow covered ground outside of the car.
"Joffrey, let go."
"What do you think you're doing?"
She met his sharp gaze, the anger radiating off both of them. For once, she wasn't scared of him, she knew this had to be done, that it was the best thing for her. She knew that he knew it too.
"I'm leaving. I'm done, Joffrey. We're not good together, you know it, I know it, your mother knows it, everyone knows it. I – I don't love you anymore," She faltered a bit, uncomfortable with the declaration, even though it was true. "We're just... wasting our time."
A look passed over his features that she hadn't seen before, he finally understood. She almost smiled, her soft eyes boring into his intense ones, she felt the grip on her wrist subside. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Sansa." She let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding, relief flooding her veins. She'd done it, she'd broken up with him, and he hadn't taken it as low as she would've thought. She started to give him a sad smile, about to open her mouth and speak when he'd cut her off with a punch to the face. "But, that's not how this works, and you know it."
She felt the pain beneath her left eye, radiating down to her cheekbone and nose. She wondered through the throbbing if he'd broken her eye socket, her cheekbone, or her nose, maybe all three. He'd hit her before, but he'd never done extensive lasting damage. No, Joffrey was more psychological than that, he preferred to mentally abuse her, creating scars in different ways. Apparently she had brought out something different in him tonight, lucky her.
He pushed her onto the seat on her back, causing her to cry out. "Joffrey, stop, please. I'm sorry, please."
But, he wasn't listening. "Maybe this will finally teach you to respect me, I have the authority here, not you. You know that, and you keep fucking pushing anyway."
She had her hands up in front of her face, shielding herself from another blow. "Please, I'm sorry. I won't tell anyone, just please, let's go home."
He leaned back for a moment, thinking over what she'd offered, before a thought struck him. "Of course you'd never tell anyone, why would you even say that?" His eyes narrowed and his hands went to her throat again, the cool air from the open car door making her shiver. "Who have you told? Who?" She was coughing and sputtering, shaking her head to try and tell him no one, but he just kept pressing his hands into the soft flesh of her throat and yelling. "Who, Sansa! Who have you told!"
She released her hands from where they had been prying at his wrists, trying to get him to alleviate some of the pressure, and did the only thing she could think of as her sides of her vision began to turn black. She punched him. Right in the eye.
She wasn't sure how hard she'd actually hit him, if it'd leave a bruise or not, but it was enough for him to release her and place a hand over his eye. An intense look passed over his features, it should've frightened her, but all she could think about was that she could breath again. She gulped down huge lung fulls of air, twisting over and trying to crawl out from under him and out the opened car door. She heard him curse, before pulling back at her waist a bit, causing her to cry out again.
He grabbed a fistful of her long hair, pulling her head back so he could look at her as he growled. "Fuck, Sansa, that's it. I've tried to play nice, but you just can't follow along, can you? You little bitch. I'm going to fuck you now, and you're going to bleed, and you're going to like it."
He released her hair and started pulling at her leggings, she was cursing the stretchy fabric and hating herself for not listening to Arya about it being cold and wearing skinny jeans instead, which would've been harder to pull off. But, she hadn't listened and wanted to look cute, and instead wore the black leggings that he was quite literally ripping from her body. She was screaming, her already sore throat protesting, but it didn't matter. The only one who heard her was Joffrey, and he got off on it.
They hadn't had sex yet, she was a virgin, and she was under the assumption that he was as well. He'd tried to pressure her into it a few times, but, she'd managed to placate him with a few well times hand-jobs and letting him do the same. He never really brought up the subject, just tried to take her clothes off when they were making out, and after she'd managed to divert him, he never really seemed to give that much of a shit whether they were fucking or not. She knew he wanted to, but he had never been so bold about it as he was now.
But, after apparently nothing else having worked, he now had every intention of raping her into submission.
She tried to kick him off of her once he got to the bottom of her legs, but he dodged her awkward kick and pushed her over onto her back. He slapped her again, for good measure and she let herself still for a moment before kneeing him in the groin. He leaned back off of her, cupping his front, and giving her enough room to slither out from under him and push herself out the open car door. He caught her ankle as she did, causing her to scrape her thighs and exposed stomach on the bottom of the doorway, her forearms sliding against the ground and starting to bleed.
She kicked him again with her free foot, the angle she was at now, giving her more access. She got him in the chest, which sent him back a bit, letting her push the rest of the way out onto the snowy road. Her leggings were still bunched around her ankles, her boots in the way of them fully coming off, causing her to be clumsy on her feet, and she was still woozy from being choked.
She was trying to pull up her pants when he made his way out of the car and over to where she stood. He caught her around the waist and threw her on the hood of his car, it burned her exposed flesh, hot from still running.
She was face down on the hood, screaming and thrashing, doing everything the could think of that her brothers had taught her, that Arya had told her, anything and everything. He was pulling her pants the rest of the way off, her boots coming with them, leaving her in wet socks on the snowy ground and her underwear, that was it.
Struggling to flip herself over onto her back, she just ended up sliding down the front and scratching the exposed skin on the front end of the car. She could tell she was bleeding, from where, she wasn't sure, but Joffrey was paying no mind behind her as she struggled against him.
She did finally manage to push away from him, sliding down onto the ground, rolling on her back to kick him again. She might not've had much upper body strength to push him away, but she had played soccer for the majority of her youth and could land a mean kick, she knew she legs were her best asset in this situation.
She had landed a kick to his stomach, winding him for a moment, letting her hop up onto her hands and knees and start to crawl away. She hadn't expected the swift kick in return.
The wind left her lungs, causing her to land on her side, crouching in the fetal position as he kicked her again. He stopped momentarily, but she wasn't fooled into thinking he was done with her and kept her position curled into herself. She felt him try and uncoil her, and her just kept kicking her legs out as hard as they'd go, hoping to land a few blows. He laid on her legs, grabbing her arms and pinning her down, flipping her over so she was on her stomach and pushing her face into the ground.
He pushed his knee in between her thighs and spread her legs. She couldn't help her sobbing, the painful ugly crying that she was now partaking in, the fight starting to drain out of her. She wriggled beneath him, trying to inch herself away from him, but he just held her face down with one hand and tried to tear her underwear with the other.
It was the sound of his cell phone from inside the car the broke the moment. She knew it was his by the ringtone, and they both knew who it was. If it had been Cersei calling, he would've ignored it and kept torturing her, but it was his father, and he didn't dare keep him waiting.
Robert had many good qualities about him, but it was the many he had in common with Joffrey that kept the boy from ignoring the call. He pushed her face harder into the wet asphalt, causing her to cry out from pain. "Don't move." He slowly pulled himself up from her and made her way around towards the drivers side, once she heard him open the door and answer the phone, she picked herself up off the ground and moved away from the car as quickly as her legs would carry her. She kept her front towards him at all times, wanting to know if he was coming. She couldn't exactly see him past the bright head lights, but she kept her distance and waited.
She watched as the passenger side door close and the car slowly pulled forward towards her, he rolled down the window when he was beside her. His eyes were dark and narrowed, full of malice and frustration. She could see that the top of his cheekbone was starting to bruise. She kept his gaze, standing her ground, but also stepping back out of his reach. He spoke finally, slowly and full of promise. "I hope you've learned your lesson, my love." He rolled up the window, his gaze still connected with her's, and took off down the empty road, leaving her alone.
She took a deep breath and let out the shaky sobs that threatened to take over her body, her eyes burning, her face and body throbbing as she cried. She felt to her knees in the snow, heavily sobbing and choking on her own breaths. She didn't feel the cold, or most of the pain, her adrenaline still coursing, but she knew she needed to get it together before someone came across her like this and did more damage than Joffrey had.
She pushed herself to her feet, and on unsteady legs she brought herself over to where the car had been, her pants and shoes were tossed to the side, her purse was where she had accidentally dropped it out of the car. She pulled on her wet leggings, ignoring the slight rips in the back, her boots next, her toes frozen from wearing only thin socks. Her jacket had been in the back of Joffrey's car, finding it useless for the indoor party they'd attended and the stifling heat of the car enough to keep the chill away. She felt it now though, as she started to come down from the high of fighting back, her heart pumping normally again.
She went to her purse and dug around for her cell phone, not knowing who to call. She couldn't call her parents, not ready to face them with what had just transpired, knowing that her father would kill Joffrey and quit his job, causing a strain between him and Robert. She couldn't call Robb or Jon, that was out of the question. Arya couldn't drive, the last thing she wanted was Margaery to see her like this and let it slip. She could've called Jeyne, who had come to get her last time things had went badly with Joff, but, it hadn't been this bad. After that, Jeyne had pestered her nonstop about when she was going to tell someone, or break up with him. She couldn't deal with that, not now.
That left no one. She had no one.
She, Sansa Stark, the popular princess with swarms of friends, a devoted family, and the idealistic boyfriend, had been reduced to the loneliest girl in the world with no one to call for help. The notion stung.
She bit back another sob, this time one of helplessness at being stranded after an attempted rape, and thumbed through the contacts in her phone, trying to find someone that would come for her. Her hand hesitated over the numbers of Arya's closest friends, Gendry certainly would come get her in an instant, but, he'd never keep something like this from Arya. Brienne was pretty noble too, kind of like Ned in that way, she'd want to do the right thing and tell her parents, tell the police, get her to the hospital. Sansa couldn't have any of that either. She paused over the last of Arya's best friends, knowing he was less than honorable, and if he even answered the phone and agreed to it, he most likely wouldn't say a word.
It was the best she had in this moment, and she felt herself pressing the call button before she could talk herself out of it. It rang once, twice, three times, and she felt her eyes start to water and panic bubble up in her chest. One the fourth ring, he answered. "Hello?" He sounded suspicious, and a tad concerned, seeing as how she never called him. Ever.
She tried not to let her voice wavier at the sound of his deep growl, she pushed back the tears and addressed him as she normally did. "Clegane?"
"Sansa?" He hardly ever called her by her given name, usually going by some annoying nickname from childhood or calling her nothing at all, just barking at her. It made her gut twist and tears escape her eyes that he had read the anguish in her voice, knowing that something was wrong. "What's wrong?"
She couldn't contain it anymore, the sobbing starting again and the heavy breaths she was taking made her dizzy. "I – I – " She couldn't answer through her crying, but he quickly cut her off.
"Where are you? Is Arya with you?"
"No." She choked out. "Just me."
"Sansa, where are you?"
She looked up at the inky sky, dark enough out here in the woods that she could see the stars clearly. "The county road." She said shakily, calming down a bit now that she knew for sure he was coming and she wouldn't be out here alone. "About ten or so miles south from the rock trail."
"I'm on my way. Don't move."
"Sandor." She rushed, before he hung up. She knew she'd captured his attention by using his given name as well, she was met with silence on the other side of the phone. "Please don't tell anyone."
It was quite for a moment before he gruffly replied, "I'm on my way." He repeated again. "Alone."
"Thank you." She replied before hanging up.
She settled herself down on the cold, wet ground, her legs weak, and the snow falling lightly around her. She shivered, cold to the bone, and aching. But, she was wired, she kept looking in every direction, waiting for Joffrey to return and finish what he started. He was right about one thing though, she was scared of him now. She had learned.
She looked down at the phone in her hands, thinking about the boy who had just promised to come get her. Sandor Clegane had been friends with her sister for a long time, Arya even boldly proclaiming to have saved his life and that's how they became friends. Sansa had never heard the real story behind their budding friendship, only tall tales told by her sister and gruff denials from him. In any case, he remained one of Arya's closest friends, despite their intense nature with one another and their parent's outward concern at first.
Sansa wouldn't lie and say her and the Hound were friends. They weren't friends, they had spent enough time together to barely constitute as close acquaintances. But, Arya trusted him, and that was enough for Sansa.
They didn't usually get along either, mostly because Joffrey hated him and the feeling seemed to be mutual when it came to Clegane. He was a gruff boy who spoke out of turn and said whatever was on his mind – disgusting or not. She had known Sandor a lot longer than she'd known Joffrey, and in that time, they'd always bickered, causing more than one headache for Cat and Arya. But, she'd always appreciated the way he cared for her sister, how loyal he could be, despite his rough demeanor and outward rudeness.
The thought wafted through her head before she could stop it; at one point, she and Jeyne had been sure that he had liked her. It had caused many hearty laughs and pointed jests from her best friend, even a poem entitled, The Seven Songs of Sansa Clegane.
She pushed the silly thought from her mind and unlocked her phone, deciding to see if Joffrey had posted anything on social media about her. She knew he wouldn't be that stupid, having literally choked her out at the very notion that she'd tell someone, but she felt paranoid and checked anyway, not wanting her parents to know that she was now stranded alone on the side of the road.
When that came up empty, she looked back up at the stars ans tried to make out constellations, ignoring the sounds of forrest life behind her and across the road, not letting herself get freaked out. She had already lived through one nightmare, she didn't need to start living another. It wasn't long after that she closed her eyes, trying to keep her teeth from chattering, and let the quiet sounds of wind moving though the trees lull her. She wasn't sure how long she sat there, but when she heard a car in the distance, she stood.
It came from the direction Joffrey had sped off to, from their side of town, it drove slowly but with purpose. She couldn't help the small bundle of fear bubble up inside of her at the prospect that he might be coming back for her, and with the headlights so far away, she couldn't tell if it was him or not.
Once it got a little closer though, she was able to make out the bulky shape of Sandor's old truck and she let out the breath she had been holding. He slowed once his headlights had hit her and came to a stop a few paces away from her. He quickly got out of his truck and made his way over to where she stood, his face laced with concern and confusion.
"What the hell happened to you? Why the fuck are you all the way out here?"
She had calmed down in the time she spent waiting for him, but at the sight of his usually annoyed face filled with concern, she started to lose it again. She started to cry, wanting to answer him, but not sure how. She looked around again, just waiting to see the shiny silver of Joffrey's expensive car coming back down the road. Sandor made his way over to her a little more to grab her purse and move her to the truck when she flinched, he retreated a bit and held his hands up in front of him.
"I'm sorry." She was jumpy, she knew that he wouldn't hurt her, but she was scared anyway. She wondered if it'd always be like this now.
"Don't be. Come on, let's get you in the truck."
He didn't comment on her lack of jacket, or the bruising to her face or arms, he just picked up her oversized purse and led her to the passenger side of his truck. It wasn't a particularly big truck, or a tall one, so Sansa had no problem getting in on her own. Once she was settled, he moved around to the drivers side and got in. It was then he looked at her, gave her that side-eye glance that she usually got from him. She didn't return it. She didn't want to see the pity in his eyes.
What the fuck had happened to her? He knew that it must've been the boy-king, who else would've touched her? Her face was swollen, an eye starting to bruise, her lip busted, her nose bleeding, a cut at her temple, and red everywhere. Her arms weren't much better, littered with scratches and marks. He felt his blood begin to boil.
He noticed her shiver, and realized she wasn't wearing a coat, just thin clothes. He shrugged off his hoodie without thinking and handed it to her. She flinched slightly at his movement, but he could tell she was trying to suppress it. She wasn't afraid of him, she was just afraid.
She took the hoodie from him, nodding her head, but her eyes not meeting his. "Thanks." He didn't say anything in response, but she could feel his side gaze on her as she pulled the warm fabric around her. It was comically big on her lithe frame, but it provided the warmth she'd been missing. It smelled like him she realized, even weirder was that she had unconsciously recognized his scent. He turned the truck around and began to drive back in the direction in which he'd come from.
It was silent. Neither of them speaking, no music playing softly as she was accustomed to in his car, just the loud rumble of hot air blowing on them from the vents.
She couldn't stop thinking about what had happened. The moments replayed in her mind like a bad rerun, she couldn't escape from it. And all she could think about was how she could've done things differently, how much harder she could've fought back, how weak she really was, how much control Joffrey actually had over her. It made her sick. She hated herself.
Was this how people really felt after an attack? She'd watched enough Law & Order: SVU in her spare time to pull from her memory, but living a particularly sheltered life made her weary to believe everything she saw. Now, she knew all she'd saw and read about was true.
She zoned back into reality when she felt the truck make a left hand turn, she looked around and realized they weren't far from their neighborhood. She hadn't thought this part through, she couldn't go home, even with Ned and Cat out of town. Robb and Jon had been demanded under strict threat of pain to make sure the younger Stark brood did as they were suppose to while the parents were away. She couldn't go home to her brothers, not like this. They would literally kill someone, mainly Joffrey, and while Sansa believed he deserved it, it would ruin everything.
She had gotten over the hurdle of being picked up, but now she had to quickly figure out where to go.
She turned to look at the boy beside her. His eyes trained on the road before them, his brows furrowed, his mouth set into a deep line. She took a brief moment to study the planes of his face, the un-ruined side. He might've been attractive as he grew if he hadn't been marred at such a young age, not her standard of fairytale handsome, but comely. If Sansa didn't know any better, she'd say he was Arya's type, but he wasn't. She favored being the strong one, which is why her and Gendry got along so well. He let her play commander in a way Clegane never would.
Sansa could tell he was getting uncomfortable from her staring, he'd always been uncomfortable in her presence and tried to make her feel the same as a way to compensate. He finally turned to look at her, she noticed the way his usually hard grey eyes softened when they looked at her. It wasn't pity, but it still made her want to turn away and cry.
Sandor noticed that she had been stuck staring at him, he could very literally feel those blue eyes of hers running over the unmarred skin of his face, tracing it like a hand. She'd been doing it since he'd known her – which had been an admittedly long time.
Her face was looking worse as the time passed, which he knew wasn't a good sign. She needed to be attended to, whether at a hospital or by her sister, just someone who knew what they were doing. She probably had bruises in places he didn't even want to think about, it only made him want to turn his truck around and go beat the shit out of Joffrey for her, to show her how much he cared.
Because he did care, whether she wanted to know that or not.
She took a deep breath to steady herself before she spoke. Her voice was hoarse, but clear enough. "I can't go home." She shook her head, "Not like this."
It was quiet again, the air settling between them. "Where do you want me to take you, then?"
He watched her eyes glaze over in thought, her mouth set in a deep frown, her brows furrowed. It didn't take her long to make a decision. "Take me to your house."
A/N: TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK, THANKS GUYS.